#i must confess my dreams of driving look exactly like his driving

[ghcstking]

percy new yorker jackson can't drive for shit but will lay on the horn

[natlacentral]

Dallas Liu for Boys By Girls. More photos and interview behind the cut.

Photography ELIZABETH WEINBERG Fashion LUCA KINGSTON Interview CAT EVANS Grooming TAMMY YI for EXCLUSIVE ARTISTS using T3 MICRO Production TREVOR PERSON

The sky trickling in thick clouds yawns open, summoning rays of light to stream down into outstretched hands. Warm, welcoming. Palms rub together and friction sparks, filtering dark shadows into shimmering strands of energy. A glint of light swells into fiery radiance, and Dallas Liu is in the centre of it all, as both himself and as Zuko fromAvatar: The Last Airbender. He is setting his path aflame as he grows resilient and intrepid, and through it all, countering the dimmer parts of life with the brightest fire.

Filled with a charismatic and personable energy, Dallas leads each conversation with a contagious spark that you just can’t help but match. It could be the fact that Dallas and I have both been west coasters since adolescence, but there is a chilled, laid-back state right off the bat as he and I sit to chat. Born and raised in Los Angeles, Dallas started acting at a young age, and there is a fierce ambition and drive in him that is truly electrifying to encounter as his career begins to ignite. Having infinite support from his loved ones, Dallas has a steady head on his shoulders and a big heart that always makes space for others, but never forgets to leave room for himself as well.

Dallas instantly supplies the energy of a born leader, but he confesses his leadership skills have grown substantially over time, with the most growth happening during the filming of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Even though we’ve just met, a sense of pride for Dallas floods my system as he speaks about his role as Zuko, especially when his eyes light up as he admits Zuko was his favourite character growing up. What a childhood dream, indeed, for him to play the young firebender in the new live-action series! There is a cadence of sincerity and intellect from Dallas as he speaks of the close knit relationships created with the other cast members during filming. We talk about how Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, who plays Uncle Iroh in the series, took Dallas under his wing and allowed space for him to gain new skills and knowledge, both mentally and physically. Dallas speaks as though he has lived many different lives, leaping from one world to the other and always leading with intention and consideration.

Through sips of tea and banters about the weather, Dallas and I settle into a space that is cosy and comfortable as we set ablaze conversations around managing big transitions, representation in Hollywood, and the importance of forgiveness. Through it all, Dallas carries the duality of calm waters and kindled fire all at once - a gentle, warming spirit through and through. He is striking the match, igniting his own fire, and making home in an inferno of self-assurance and purpose.

Avatar: The Last Airbender releases February 22, 2024 on Netflix.

Dallas, hello! Looks like you might be in some chilly weather with that jacket on.  [laughs] Yeah, I’m in L.A…It’s in the sixties…really not that cold, but it is for here!

Yeah, Los Angeles must be getting a slight cold front like a lot of other places in the states have! Right! For an L.A native like myself, this is when we wear our trench coats and what not. Everyone's standing outside with their scarves and coffees and hot lattes!

Well, it’s so great to get to chat with you! How has your day been today? Good, thank you! Just hanging out, and the trailer for Avatar: The Last Airbender dropped today, which is super sick. I'm feeling very excited about that! I’ve been calling everyone, seeing how they're feeling. I was just happy to finally have something out after so long. I think our teaser was released last year in November, so it's been a while, and now the show's coming out in a month exactly, so I'm just happy to finally be sharing it!

Yes! And the trailer is so great, I’m really excited. I grew up watching the animated series - I’m thrilled for the live action and to watch it now as an adult! Yeah, I think especially with the way the show is doing it where we're spreading it out, with the first season being the entirety of book one, will be really awesome! There’s just too much that goes on in that first season to really compact it into a three hour film.

For sure, I agree! Well, we’ll dig deeper into the show of course, but let me give you a warm welcome back to Boys By Girls! This is your second time sitting down with us for a conversation. Your first interview was in September 2021. How does it feel to think about the time that has passed since then? I can’t believe that much time has passed already. It’s so cool…and also frightening! It all feels like a movie in itself. It’s been a whole entire journey since the last time I talked with Boys by Girls. I had only just booked Avatar: The Last Airbender, and I hadn't even really started prepping for it at that point, because they hadn't sent us the script or anything like that. Now I'm getting to talk to you guys again and the show is coming out soon! I feel like not only have I been able to grow as an actor, but as a person as well. And I'm just excited to talk to you guys again!

We’re very excited to have you! And we’ve just transitioned into a new year. What would you say the biggest transition was that you went through in 2023?  Well, this is kind of a very basic answer, but I think a lot of people in my generation are learning to not obsess over things out of our control. As long as you've done your part or done your best in that moment, the moment has passed now. So, you know, it’s about being able to accept that. What you've done is done. It's time to move on. All you can do is be proud that the moment existed and you were able to participate in it.

How do you do with transitions and change in general? Is there anything that helps with change and staying grounded?  I am definitely someone that finds change challenging, but it's something that I enjoy as well. It means that something is happening in your life. It's proof that you are really here and living through it all. This kind of goes back to my last interview with Boys By Girls, but I can't stress enough how much my family and friends mean to me through all of this change. My family and I are so close. There's no way that they'd ever let me switch up on them or turn out to be this crazy person. And with my friends, during transitions, I think the ones who can stay will stay. The ones who can't, or choose to leave, were friends with me for the wrong reasons.

For sure. Our loved ones definitely keep us in check during transitions and change, as well.  Yeah, I feel that! As you get older those numbers of friends will decrease, and you're going to naturally start looking for more friends that feel good to spend time with and keep you grounded. However, if there is this prior knowledge of your status or career, there's always a little scepticism that exists within you. Sometimes you're not really sure whether or not to fully form that friendship and trust them. But for me, luckily I have not only some of my high school friends, but people I’ve worked with. All of us working on Avatar: The Last Airbender, except for the adults, are kind of new to the industry. We're all sort of trying to figure out how to just be our best selves as actors, but also as people. All of us on the show are constantly keeping each other in check, which is really nice. That's such a precious thing.

That is really vital. I think in any career, having those sorts of connections is so important.  That's always the best thing with co-workers. Like, there's no extreme character that you’ll sometimes see in these television shows and movies. We're all people. We’re all just normal people, right? We're on the same TikTok algorithm! [laughs] Yeah, that's when you know they're for life: getting on the same algorithm!

That’s true compatibility! And, on the subject of friendships, one of the biggest themes in Avatar: The Last Airbender is the importance of community and friendship. How was your experience with building a community and support system during the filming of the series? I'd have to say in the beginning it wasn't too difficult. I was calling my mom every day, calling my manager every day, and staying in touch. And, you know, sometimes when you're put in those specific environments with new people, you go through this struggle bonding with the other actors and actresses. We also went through a boot camp for martial arts training, and we worked on scripts for a little bit. So, I'd say in the beginning it wasn't too difficult for me to make those connections.

However, later on in the process, when we were about four or five months into shooting, that's when I really relied on Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, who plays Uncle Iroh, when I was on set. Then when I was off set, it was Ian Ousley, who plays Sokka. Him and I were actually roommates, so after months of shooting, we finally decided, yeah, let's move in together! Like, why not? Our characters rarely interact in the animated series, and when the main three were on set, I was at home, and then we'd just go back and forth. It was funny, he and I would always have some tea and just debrief the day after one of us would come home from work. It was totally like a real life couple activity!

So, you are playing Zuko in the new live-action series Avatar: The Last Airbender! What are you looking forward to most with the release of the series?  For this release, I'd have to say [I'm most looking forward to] the relationship between Zuko and Uncle Iroh. When Zuko is on his own, he's kind of this crazy, mad, angry teenager, right? He's going through a lot and he's experienced a lot. But when he's with Uncle Iroh, he seems to be more in touch with his senses and his emotions a little bit better, although he is still quite lost identity wise and in what he actually wants for himself. But I think everyone has felt that way in some part of their life, especially in their teenage years. That'll be something a lot of people can relate to - that feeling of being angry with whatever you might think is the cause of your problems, although not necessarily being fully self aware.

In the teaser, you get to see Ozai and Young Zuko fighting in their Agni Kai. I'm really excited to see people watch me play the younger version of Zuko as well. I think that'll be a fun twist, because younger Zuko is obviously, as you know, way different from bald ponytail Zuko. [laughs] I'm stoked for that. And I'm stoked for people to see Uncle Iroh in general. Paul Sun-Hyung Lee is a super talented actor that helped me grow and become a leader on set, which was really big for me, because I didn't really understand the role of a series regular. Although they have this title of a regular character, and you know they're going to be in almost every episode, I didn't know what the role was when you're not on camera, and how your mood can affect the rest of the crew. So that was really, really valuable for me.

Zuko is portrayed as an “anti-hero” in Avatar: The Last Airbender, even though, in a lot of ways, he’s just a complex character going through his own coming-of-age and personal growth. What would you say are Zuko’s greatest internal struggles?  Personally, I had to really understand Zuko. I had to know every single part of the series. Even going back and watching YouTube analysis videos of his character was so beneficial for me. You see in the animated series of the first season, he's kind of just a hothead all throughout. So what I wanted to make sure I did was give Zuko some sort of depth as a real person. Because, yes, we are living in this fantasy world - you have all these crazy animals and spirits that are involved. But at the end of the day, these characters are human beings. They eat, they sleep, and, as a plus, they can bend. And, sure, bending is the whole thing about Avatar, but I wanted to give a real performance of me, a human being, as Zuko. He's been my favourite character since I was young! I wanted to sort of dissect my childhood and my own personal relationships, even though they’re incredibly different from Zuko’s, to see if I could use any of those past memories to my advantage. Although not all of them were very useful. Imagine if I was like, yeah, I burned my face! [laughs] No, just kidding. But, yeah, I think trying to relate to Zuko is going to be hard for anyone just because the trauma that he experienced was so extreme. But I worked with what I had. I had a lot of source material and I had a few performances to look at. I used everything that I could at my disposal.

What do you cherish the most about being a part of the Avatar: The Last Airbender world? Hmm, that’s a great question. Can I ask you to answer that question for yourself first? [laughs] I need time to think!

Oh gosh, turning the tables on me! It is definitely a difficult question, because there’s so much about the world that comes to mind. As a kid, it was the escapism for me that felt super important. Also, the whole idea of bending being this certain outward form of expression, like what art is for people, that was big for me to see as a kid. It’s why I love being an artist, and I think that carries through the series beautifully.  Dang, those are some great answers. Now I don’t know what to say! [laughs] Just kidding. Yeah, I totally agree with that. I think for me, my favourite part about the whole entire series is probably the individual journeys each character goes on and the storytelling within that. The way that each character's journey sort of ties in together and brings them to that one final battle. And it’s not only just the physical battle, but it's mental for each of them as well. I'd have to say, also, I love how much the fantasy world really does relate to the real world. There's a lot of beautiful themes in the series.

That’s a really lovely answer! There are themes in Avatar: The Last Airbender that are a bit grittier, like conflict and war, disability, discrimination, and grief. How important do you find these topics to be to the series and plot? And also exposing these topics to younger generations through the series?  I think it's so important, however I don't think it's the most important thing about the series. It's of course vital to give youth some sort of exposure to those grittier topics, because it does exist in the real world. It is, in a way, preparing them for these big world issues, right? Like, you're a kid, so typically you're kept in your house, taken care of by your parents, going to school. It's this simple life, but obviously as you get older, everything just becomes more complicated. It's tough to deal with all of that tragedy and evil that exists. However, what you see during those wars and the outcome of these amazing stories is that they're all good endings, so I guess that helps out the kids quite a bit. I mean, you don't really think about the genocide and violence in the series too, too much as a kid. You're like, ah, dang, they got wiped out. As an adult, you're like, oh my Lord! But, I guess because you're a kid, you don't really think too deep into it. So I think with every darker theme in the series, there's a lot of lighter themes to combat it. And, as a kid, you want to hold on to those light themes. It certainly balances out everything. I feel like the light certainly outweighs the darkness just because it is, at the end of the day, a kid series.

The nations in Avatar: The Last Airbender are influenced by East Asian and Inuit culture, which are respectfully showcased in the fantasy world. How do you think this series is providing a stage for representation, especially as a show that is revolutionising television for younger generations specifically? I think it's doing it in the best way possible, especially our live action series with Netflix. You see these Asian and Indigenous cultures, and it's something that everyone can relate to. You're seeing that representation in the faces, in the world building, in the costumes, but deep down at heart these are characters that everyone can relate to, or have met someone that they can relate to, that has a similar nature to all of these characters. I think that's where not only Asian and Indigenous cultures would like to move forward in Hollywood, but minorities in general would like to experience that well roundedness in the characters. I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's cool we get to play ethnic characters that aren’t just only ethnic characters, but real human beings, you know? Their ethnicity isn’t the only thing about them, and not the thing that is being solely focused on. Their ethnicity is not their story.

Especially being in America, although those ethnic stories are extremely important to our story in Hollywood, it's cool we get to play these roles that don't exist in the real world, but everyone, no matter what race you are, will relate to these people. I mean, that's the whole reason I fell in love with the animated series as a kid. For me, I knew these characters were similar to me culturally, but to get to see them just live out their life in a fantasy world where none of that stuff really matters, it's just the world that they exist in, I think is so cool.

Now for a fun (and thematic) question…what natural element would you say you resonate with the most?  Hmm. This is so lame because I say the same answer every time, but it's so true. I'd have to say fire. I mean, it's a good one. And, yeah, that's just what people have said about my looks all my life. [laughs] No, no I’m joking about that! It's definitely the opposite. Definitely the opposite. But with fire, not only do I think it's the coolest, but I'm a Leo, I'm a fire sign. It just kind of all adds up.

In your previous conversation with Boys By Girls, you express your love of boba. I have to ask, what’s your go-to boba order? Ah, I think over the years it's gotten more and more simple, actually. Now I go to this place called Chicha San Chen. And boba is Taiwanese, but this place really emphasises that they're Taiwanese. For a boba shop, they're Michelin star rated or something like that. It's insane. If you're ever in LA, or I think the other location is in Vancouver, you’ve definitely got to give it a shot. It is so good. I usually always go with a black tea. At this place you can throw in cream or mousse, which is sometimes so nice with it. Then I like to get either fifty or seventy-five percent sugar, depending on the day. You can also order hot tea boba at this shop, and it's super good on chilly days… like this where it's 65 degrees [laughs] [It's for] when you're wearing your puffer jacket and beanie, and you're like, ooh, I need a little hot drink in my life. But then if I get iced, I always do less ice. Yeah, that's the order. Black milk tea, or jasmine milk tea, of course, is great as well.

If you could manifest this new year in one word, what would that word be?  I would have to say “forgiveness.” I pray for forgiveness because I think especially after coming out of COVID, people are trying to figure themselves out, and everyone needs forgiveness. Whether it's a person that has done you wrong or someone that you may have done wrong, knowing that maybe either one of you had a part in it and simply giving them that forgiveness and closure could go a very long way. Whether they're aware of whatever happened or not, I think to get that off of your own chest, or for them to get it off of theirs, is a small gesture that really can go a very long way. I think forgiveness can impact everyone very, very deeply.

That’s a stunning perspective and way to move into this new year! Thank you for the lovely chat, Dallas, it’s been such a pleasure. And I’m so excited to watch the show when it comes out!  Thank you, I appreciate it so much. This has been super fun!

[thedeathdeelers]

listen i know none of my mutuals or anyone i know has watched Hidden Love but i’ll be damned if i don’t write the scene we should’ve gotten the second duan jiaxu and sang zhi were officially a couple (ie this post)

so.

mirror mirror on the wall

Her phone rings first thing in the morning, startling her from her sleep. She had been dreaming about the same thing she always dreamt about — about the man of her dreams finally confessing to her and making her his. Sang Zhi grumbles at having her dream interrupted as she pats the space next to her pillow, blindly reaching for her phone. She taps on the green button, barely having enough energy to open her eyes and check who the caller was — anyone thinking calling this early was acceptable must be family.

“Hello?” she blearily answers, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

“Zhizhi,” she hears on the other end of the line. The sound of her voice startles her before she can even register his use of her nickname.

Sang Zhi pops up into a sitting position, momentarily pulling her phone away from her face to stare at Duan Jiaxu’s name clearly written on the screen.

“You there?” he asks after a few seconds of silence.

Sang Zhi nearly drops her phone as she rushes to pull it back towards her, sounding almost breathless as she squeaks out a sound resembling the word “yes.”

He chuckles down the line, the sound making her heart flutter.

continue reading on ao3

“Am I calling too early? Did I wake you?”

“N-no it’s..it’s okay. I just….I didn’t expect you to call so soon,” she says, losing volume as she stumbles through the sentence.

“I wanted to call even earlier,” he says, another chuckle slipping out. “But I didn’t want to seem too eager.”

Her heart thuds at his words, clutching the phone closer to her face.

“Y-you don’t,” she stutters.

She hears him laugh again down the line, before taking a deep breath and speaking up.

“So I was wondering…are you free this morning? I..I kind of want to introduce you to someone.”

Sang Zhi freezes at his words, not sure what to think of his request.

She has been his girlfriend for exactly one day (one night), and he already wants her to meet someone?

She can feel her heart beating a mile a minute as she opens and closes her mouth, struggling to find her voice.

“If- if it’s too soon, or you can’t, we can do it another time.” He pauses, then speaks up again. “No pressure.”

Sang Zhi takes a minute to breathe in, breathe out — and finally finds her voice.

“I’m free.”

She gets ready in a daze, stumbling through her morning routine as her mind refuses in focus on the task at hand. Thankfully her roommates are there to make sure she doesn’t walk out of their dorm looking like a zombie.

She’s barely made it out of the dorm when her phone starts ringing — Duan Jiaxu, her boyfriend was calling.

“Hello?”

“I’m downstairs.”

Sang Zhi skips down the last remaining stairs, footsteps rushing as she turns to her left and sees him standing there, waiting for her, just as he did on her birthday.

The butterflies erupt in her stomach and cheeks grow warm as he spots her, a brilliant smile gracing his features.

God she loved him. She loved him and she had no idea how she got this lucky. Was she dreaming?

She walks up to him, a tentative smile on her lips as he reaches out with his hand, offering it to her.

She hesitates for a second, her mind refusing to function, but jumps into action when she sees him start to retract his offer.

His eyes are gentle as they momentarily take in their entwined hands, before flicking up to meet hers, tugging her forward.

“Let’s go.”

//

They drive for a while, hands still clasped together, nestled on her lap. Sang Zhi tried to ask him where they’re going, but he just keeps grinning from ear to ear, shaking his head as he refuses to let anything slip. Sang Zhi loves surprises as much as the next person, but the build up was killing her.

Where were they going? Who were they meeting?

Finally after a half hour of driving, they pull up in front of a café she had read up about before starting university. It was a famous out of the way café, known for its lights, signs and props commonly used by anyone with a Weibo account. It was a…selfie café.

Quirking a brow, Sang Zhi turns to look at Duan Jiaxu questioningly, knowing he was never one to use social media. How did he even know about this place?

“You’ll see why inside. Let’s go.”

//

They walk in hand in hand, making their way past friends and couples crowding around different areas of the café, phone shutter sounds filling up the space.

Sang Zhi looks around the space, letting Duan Jiaxu guide her as she stumbles along, eyes flicking from one corner of the café to the next.

“Where are we-“ she starts to ask, only to stop as she bumps into Duan Jiaxu’s back. Quickly taking a step back, she looks up to find him standing in front of one of the café’s installations — a full length mirror, adorned with lights strips in the shape of a heart at the top, and various plants running down the sides.

She looks up at her boyfriend, still confused, and tries to see if there was anyone behind him. Were they early?

“I wanted to make this official,” he starts off, immediately grabbing her attention, his thumb tracing over her knuckles as his eyes flick down to their hands. “I made a promise a long time ago,” he continues, eyes tracing back up to meet hers. “And I plan on keeping that promise.”

Pulling her gently closer to him, he lets go of her hand, and places both of his on her shoulders. Before Sang Zhi can even react, Duan Jiaxu slowly spinning them around until she’s standing right front of the mirror, with him hovering behind her.

They lock eyes in the mirror, Duan Jiaxu’s hands slipping down her shoulders to her waist.

“Sang Zhi, I’d like you to be the first person to meet my girlfriend.”

Sang Zhi’s heart stops at his words, her eyes widening as she finally understands what he was up to. Her lips part as she lets out a gasp, her throat constricting as tears build up in her eyes.

She doesn’t move, frozen to the spot, as she stares at their reflection in the mirror.

He…he was keeping his promise. He was….letting her be the first person to meet….her. His girlfriend.

Her heart starts beating so loudly in her chest, she struggles hear anything else over the sound. The butterflies in her stomach have long since taken over, the fluttering feeling now all over her chest as well.

She doesn’t know what to do, or say — all she can do is stare at their reflection in awe, stare at Duan Jiaxu, as he turns his gaze from the mirror to stare at the side of her face.

“Isn’t she lovely?” he whispers in her ear, fingers tightening their hold on her waist. “I told you I’d make sure to pick someone with a kind heart and a gentle soul. Someone who is…perfect.”

He nudges her cheek with his nose, and adds,

”And I know you were worried that getting a girlfriend might interfere with my dream, but I find that…she’s kind of becoming a key part of that dream.”

Sang Zhi’s heart hammers away in her chest at his sweet words as he pulls her a little closer to him. He wraps his arms around her waist, and gently presses a kiss to her cheek.

By some miracle, he was finally hers…and she his.

[lady-lys]

Mine (Harry x MC) 16+

Takes place on Confession Day. Originally posted in Canals of Sensitivity.

Maybe I’ll finish this at a later time, I’m going to sleep now—

xxx

“I refuse.”

The words hit you hard, despite knowing it was coming. It was like a stab in the heart with a knife.

“I’m being honest with you. I don’t want to be with you.”

Now he was twisting said knife.

You felt so stupid. Why did you confess? You knew this was going to happen. So utterly stupid. This was a damn waste of your time and effort.

You closed the chat room without saying another word, turning your phone off entirely before walking into the bathroom. You regretted taking a look in the mirror as you passed by it. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying.

You hated crying and you felt as if he didn’t deserve your tears. You couldn’t help it though, you cried when you felt extreme emotions, and right now you felt angry.

Maybe later you’ll feel sad but right now you feel angry. At who, you weren’t sure. Maybe at yourself for being so stupid for confessing. Maybe at Piu-Piu for making you believe this was a good idea. Maybe at Harry for being so arrogant and cold.

You needed a distraction, so you turned on the shower and set the water temperature to cold. A shock is exactly what you need, and you need to cool off from the hot anger you felt.

You stayed in there until your body became numb from the cold, quickly drying yourself off and not bothering to put on any clothes before flopping down on your bed. You were emotionally exhausted and drifted off to sleep within seconds of your head meeting the pillow.

xxx

“Piu-Piu, why hasn’t she responded?”

Harry frowned as he waited half an hour now for your reply.

“I’m not able to locate her. Her device seems to be offline. Can you blame her though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you broke her heart! The probability of love between you was a good 92% chance and now it’s down to 0%!”

“Ugh. I didn’t reject her because I don’t like her. I just didn’t want to mess up what we already have. But it seems like I already did.”

Harry thought back on his words. He would have explained his reasoning by now if you hadn’t left the chat abruptly. He had to explain himself.

“Tell me where she is.”

He paced around his hotel room, patience running thin.

“You know I can’t reveal tha—“

“I do not care. Talking to her is part of my life pattern and I’m about to lose her. I cannot lose her.”

“Well.. when you put it that way.”

xxx

Harry wasted no time summoning Big Guy to drive him to a location 20 minutes from the hotel he was staying at in the south part of the city.

“Do not wait for me. I will call you when I am done.”

Harry briefly informed Big Guy as he stepped out of the car and into the cold night.

“But sir—“

Harry closed the door on him before he could hear the rest of his sentence.

“What floor is she on?”

Harry whispered into his phone as he made his way across the quiet lobby and towards the elevators.

“Her last known location indicates she is on the third floor.”

Harry waited impatiently as the elevator made its way up the floors. As soon as the doors opened, he rushed out and into the long corridor of doors.

“Which one is it?”

“Keep going, keep goi— here! On your right.”

Harry firmly knocked on your door. No answer.

“Why isn’t she opening her door?”

“I’m not sure, I can’t detect her when her device is offline.”

He knocks again, contemplating throwing down the door, but before he could finish the thought, the door opens and reveals you. Wrapped in nothing but thin silk bed sheets.

“Mmm, what can I help you wi-“

A cute yawn escapes your lips mid sentence. It seems the situation hasn’t quite dawned on you, making Harry smirk.

“Hello, MC.”

The deep voice you have grown to know so well finally snaps you completely awake, your eyes shooting up to meet his.

“Wha-how did you find me?!”

You asked in disbelief. You must still be dreaming. This has got to be a dream.

“I forced Piu-Piu to help me find you. I had to explain myself, but you left the chat abruptly before I could.”

Harry spoke quietly, not wanting this private matter to be heard by any neighbors.

You had forgotten entirely about what had happened hours prior, and the realization fell on you like a bucket of ice water. Your shocked expression quickly turned into a scowl.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

You snapped, closing the door on him before he stopped it with his hand. There was no way you could close it now with his strength.

“Could you at least listen to me for a minute? I can’t lose you!”

His words shocked you, making you step back for a second. Harry took this as an opportunity to quickly make his way inside your apartment, locking the door behind him.

“Lose me? You never even had me!”

You shouted, gripping the silk sheets wrapped around you tighter. You only now noticed your clothing situation, or lack thereof. Harry was now able to check you out completely as you were no longer hiding behind the door. His eyes darkened.

“I refuse to lose you. You are mine.”

He said sternly as he took a step towards you. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his possessive words. No, you couldn’t let this slide. You wouldn’t let him get away with this.

“Yours? So now you want me?”

You scoffed, turning your face away from him. He made his way to you, grabbing your face and making you look up to him.

“I said I didn’t want to be with you.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear before he continued.

“I never said I didn’t want you.”

Another shiver went down your back. You hope he didn’t notice the effect he is having on you. You grab his wrist and pull his hand away from your face, careful to not drop the sheets around your body with one hand.

“You’re too late now, Harry.”

You whisper back to him, before making your way to the door. He follows behind your every step.

“Now leave.”

You say coldly as you open the door for him, only for him to slam it back shut, an arm on either side of your head as he leans down so close to you that you can smell his expensive cologne.

“Listen to me, MC. I don’t want to ruin what we already have. I don’t want to add conflict and pressure. Why can’t you understand that what we already have is perfect?”

He glares down on you as you look up at him in shock. Anger slowly flares inside you.

“Isn’t it a little too late for you to be saying that? What we had is already ruined! I don’t want to waste my time on you any longer. I was stupid to attempt anything with you!”

You shouted up at him, trying to escape his enclosed space by punching his chest with your free hand, the other still securely holding your bedsheets. He firmly grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.

“Stop that. Listen to me.”

He says coldly, voice unwavering.

“No, Harry! You listen to me! I am done with you, I never want to see you aga—“

Your shouting is abruptly stopped with a harsh kiss. Your eyes widen as he absolutely devours your mouth. Just as quickly as he came crashing down on your lips, he left them, only a trail of saliva left connecting you.

“Don’t say that to me.”

He glares down at you, his dark eyes dark full of hunger. You want to punch him so bad. How dare he make you feel this way after he just rejected you earlier in the day! You try to unpin yourself from his grip but this only makes him press against you, completely pinning your body to the door. You suddenly feel something hard poking against your leg.

“You are mine.” He growls against your ear before he takes it between his teeth, lightly pulling on it.

“Mine.”

And he was absolutely right.

You would always be his.

[oddaodd]

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

·

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03

[lovelybarnes]

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

-

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

[harry-writings]

My Birthday Girl

Another Drive Me Wild blurb for all my emotionless!h lovers out there! I hope you enjoy!! <3 I truly did not know how to end this but oh well, she’s cute anyways :’)

Masterlist

How to support me <3333

-

Chocolate covered strawberries.

They’re Y/n’s favorite — the snack she always asks him to make for her on special occasions, and even on her lowest days does he find her craving the sweet treat, an unbelievably easy way to her heart.

So here he is, dipping fresh strawberries in melted chocolate on the morning of her birthday. Their flat is silent as Y/n sleeps in their bedroom, Harry borderline exhausted as he is now on his third hour of being awake, his second cup of coffee already brewing beside him.

But his excitement is stronger than his lack of sleep as he runs through the day in his head, a small smile toying on his lips for everything he has planned for her. After their morning spent in bed, he arranged a picnic for them to go on at their local park — the basket already prepared and filled with cheese and crackers, wine and grapes — tickets for an immersive art exhibit she’d been begging for him to take her to, and a reservation to Y/n’s favorite Italian restaurant later tonight.

He wanted to make her birthday something she’d never forget, simply because this is the first birthday they’ll be spending together and he doesn’t want to screw it up. But also because last night, Y/n had told him that she had spent her last four birthdays alone, and something about that small confession was enough for him to nearly tear his own heart out.

It’s been eating him up all morning — thinking about how sad she must have felt on the days she was supposed to be her happiest. Surely, he’s been through that feeling practically his entire life… but something about Y/n spending her birthdays alone physically pains him to think about.

His stomach twists and churns whenever his thoughts wander off to Y/n sitting at her favorite restaurant, celebrating at a table for one with a glass of wine and a cup of ice cream, with nobody for her to talk to. And for him to fathom the idea of her going home to an empty house and an even emptier bed, ending her night without receiving a single happy birthday text, as if it were no different than any other day, makes his chest cave into a pit of guilt for not being the one there with her.

He knows it’s not his fault, but there’s nobody else to blame and he’d much rather take the fall than for her to ever blame herself (which she already does — another confession that had also slipped out to him last night). He frowns a bit at the remembrance.

And the emotional turmoil his body undergoes thinking about her past makes him ache being so far away from her now. So he finishes the last couple of strawberries in a haste, swaps the batch he made earlier with the new batch out from the refrigerator, and plates the chocolate covered strawberries on a floral serving tray.

With one last look around the kitchen, he makes his way into their bedroom.

He smiles softly as he enters, Y/n snuggled with the covers under her chin, soft snores falling with each breath she takes, as beautiful as ever in her dream state.

He places the tray of chocolate covered strawberries quietly against the nightstand, careful not to wake her just yet, before sitting down on the bed beside her legs. He reaches his hand out to pet through her hair, watching as her nose scrunches and eyes blink open beneath his touch.

He leans down to kiss her, his lips resting gently on her forehead as he continues to run his fingers through her hair, growing a hint of a smile when she huffs and puffs to her morning wake.

He removes his lips from her skin, sitting himself back up to admire the view. It never fails to amaze him just how stunning she truly is. No matter the time of day or the mood she’s in, no matter how done up or how done down, she always manages to take his breath away and make him fall more in love.

She pouts tiredly at him, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the light. And he pouts back at her, his fingers rubbing at the edge of her jawline back and forth softly. “I’m so sorry, pretty, but I missed you.”

She softens a little at his words, her cheeks turning pink beneath his touch. “I missed you, too.”

He smiles a bit as he continues petting her, the silence between them affectionate and comfortable. And she pushes herself deeper into his touch, in absolute bliss.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

She hums, in awe at just how perfect he is. His chest is on display for her to see, his tattoos prominent against his skin and begging for attention. And his face… so soft, so sweet, so precious… she wants it all to herself, all day long.

“Why do you look so good right now?” She frowns, her oozing with lust as they soak him in. It feels as if she’s seeing him for the first time all over again.

“Shaved for you.” He leans down to kiss at her lips once, twice, three times before he sits up again, his expression blank but his eyes full of love. “For later.”

She whines, her hands gripping his arm and pulling him back down to her, the sight of him no longer enough as her watering mouth finds its home against his cheek. “How about for now?”

She’s being greedy and she knows it, but who could ever blame her? It’s her birthday and her only wish is for him to fill all of her senses, to hold her close until she’s in a world that belongs to just the two of them, to touch every single part of him.

Her lips are persistent against him, her fingers in his hair as she kisses and kisses and kisses the soft and smooth skin. And Harry indulges himself in her affections, enjoying it all too well even though it should be him drowning her with love.

“But I made you breakfast.” He tries, his walls crumbling as his voice wavers between his words because of course he’d rather be doing this, but today is about spoiling her rotten, not the other way around.

“How could I possibly want breakfast when you’re right here, shirtless and all clean shaven?” Her teeth graze at his jaw, as if taking a bite of him, growling at his taste. “So scrumptious right in front of me.”

His breath falters and weakens at her touch, the breath of her words sending a chill down his spine he can’t seem to shake off. And curse her for being so irresistible and knowing exactly what he likes, he never fails to give into her in a heartbeat. “But I made your favorite.”

“So that’s a no to morning birthday sex?” She raises her eyebrow at him, pulling away from him and stilling her movements.

“Absolutely not.” He argues plainly, gently pushing her back onto the mattress, his blank and nearly cold expression making her chest jump from within her. She loves how much he loves her beneath it all.

He strokes her cheek with the back of his finger, his lips linear and eyes darkening with endearment, admiring every inch of her face. And she can recognize that look anywhere — he’s going to make a mess out of her.

He reaches over to the night stand, grabbing one of the chocolate covered strawberries and dangling it over her mouth. “Just one bite for me.”

She opens her mouth for a taste, pushing herself up on her elbows to reach, craning her neck. But right before she could sneak a bite, Harry pulls it away from her, making her head tilt in confusion as he looks at her with hesitation.

Rather, he opens his own mouth, his teeth lodging into the stem end of the berry, ready for her to take. And he leans back down, Y/n’s eyes glistening at the idea as she meets him halfway. Her teeth sink into the hardened chocolate and through the juicy fruit, her lips meshing with his along the way. And they both let out a moan at the feel and taste of it, never having done anything quite like this before.

Harry leans back with the fruit stuck between his teeth, eyes fixating on her for just a moment longer before he turns his head and spits the stem onto the ground. And if Y/n wasn’t so infatuated by the filthy sight of it, she’d grimace at the thought of the juice leaving a stain on their perfectly clean hardwood floor… but how could she ever care when he’s about to make his mark on her?

She licks her lips up at him, slowly and seductively, humming at the sweetness.

His eyes darken at the angel splayed in front of him, ready to be touched and ruined by him. And something about the way she wanted this, craved this, starved for this — over the chocolate covered strawberries he had made with love, delivered to her side, ready to be devoured — even when she has it every day, makes him want this so much more… as if it were even possible.

“You just lay back and look pretty.” He instructs, his hand running down the length of her shirt (that’s technically his, but she wears it nearly every single night for bed and it always drives him wild whenever she does) and onto the plush of her thigh.

She squirms into his touch.

“And I will give you everything you ask for, m’birthday girl.”

-

Harry’s got his hands over Y/n’s eyes, carefully guiding her toward the kitchen — where he had dedicated his entire morning to make everything look perfect for her — as she giggles and squeals and tries to guess what he could have possibly surprised her with.

He laughs with every other step they take, biting teasingly at her shoulders whenever she makes more guesses, already feeling somewhat accomplished that he’s found a way to make her this happy.

He stops them at the entrance of the kitchen, where he kisses the back of her head. “Okay. Are you ready, baby?”

She nods excitedly, clapping her hands in anticipation. He counts to three, taking a deep breath in before releasing his hands from her eyes and settling them around her waist.

Her jaw drops at the sight of it.

Dozens of baby pink balloons floating around the kitchen, the table full of gifts in pastel colored bags, white streamers hanging from the walls, bouquets of flowers scattered throughout the mix. And never has Y/n seen something so thoughtful or so full of love, she can hardly believe that it’s all for her.

She never knew things like this existed.

“You did all this? For me?”

Harry kisses her head from behind, tightening his arms around her front and squeezing her to him, resting his chin against her shoulder.

His heart sinks whenever she doubts his intentions, always unsettled at the thought of her insecurities fooling her to believe she doesn’t deserve to be loved like this. Because she does and she always will, every day for the rest of her life, and he intends to remind her of that every day for the rest of his.

“Wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

He gives her one last squeeze before releasing her, allowing her to roam free and look at everything he had to offer. And she seems tentative and wary at first, but with one soft and gentle push from Harry, she makes her way over to what he had laid out for her.

Her eyes dance between the gifts and the decorations, slightly overwhelmed at how much there is… she doesn’t know what to look at first. Everything is just so perfect — beyond anything she could ever imagine and better than anything she’s ever dreamed of.

But something in particular catches her eye — there, set on the middle of the table, are two glasses of mimosas with a note laid before them, reading ‘Cheers to you, my love, for being alive with me.’

Her stomach dances, heart falling at the words he wrote out for her. They’re so simple, yet quite possibly the most beautiful thing she has ever been told. She’ll be sure to smother him with kisses for it later.

She diverts her attention to the gifts, her fingers dance along the pastel bags, ruffling the tissue paper, gleaming at how much thought and time he must have put into everything. Because they are always together — at home, at work, on their days off — and yet he still found a way to make this day as special as he possibly could for her, leaving countless of surprises along the way.

“You spoiled me.”

He leans himself against the counter, his eyes never leaving her. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He pauses, then, trying to find the right words. “I know I’m not always the most expressive when it comes to our relationship, so I like to make up for it whenever I can.”

Her lips fall into a pout, watching as her fingers fiddle around the corner of a tissue paper, her heart dropping at the insecurity laced within his words.

It breaks her in two whenever Harry doubts himself, always saddened at the thought of him never feeling good enough in their relationship despite everything he’s done for her. Because he goes above and beyond every single day, in ways she never even knew was possible, and it aches to feel all the weight he burdens himself with.

“H... that’s never something you have to worry about. You’re very expressive towards me.” Her hand falls to her thigh in defeat, her frown sinking deeper. “It kind of breaks my heart that you don’t see that.”

“No.” Harry says instantly, shaking his head as he makes his way towards her, his hands resting at her shoulders to bring her attention back towards him. “No broken hearts today. Just forget I said anything, okay? And instead...” He grabs a particularly small bag up from the sea of gifts, holding it out to her with hopeful and anxious eyes. “Open this.”

She looks up at him, her cheeks flushed and lips twitching into a smile. She grabs it from him slowly, a small and quiet thank you falling from her lips, suddenly shy under his watch.

Her hands shake as they remove the tissue paper from the bag, her eyes curious when they spot a black velvet box laid delicately inside. She reaches for it, placing the gift bag back on the table before looking back up to Harry, trying to read his expression.

She opens the velvet box and feels a certain tug on her heart she’s never once felt before, stuttering at the meaning of it.

“You got us matching rings?”

He nods, rolling his lips between his teeth. It’s his nervous habit — the subtlest form of one but the only external sign he’s in a situation he’s unsure about. But she can’t imagine how he could ever be unsure of something like this… it’s one of the most romantic things he’s ever done for her.

“Look on the inside of them.”

She takes her ring out of the box, gleaming at the silver band for a moment longer before flipping it to its inside, and she gasps again. Engraved with the most perfect cursive writing, read the words forever and always.

“I know how much you love my rings. You’ve made this really cute habit of fiddling with them before bed to help you fall asleep, and — and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but… I stopped wearing any on my left ring finger once you and I had gotten together.”

She did notice, of course, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions. Especially since she first noticed the morning after their first night together. She was in a trance as she watched his hands work each ring onto his fingers, one by one, precise and confident and effortless. He wasn’t even looking and that’s what made it so much more mesmerizing to her.

But it wasn’t until he reached his left ring finger that he hesitated, his fingertips skimming the skin there, as if in contemplation. And her eyebrows furrowed, even deeper when he proceeded to the next finger as if nothing peculiar had happened at all, the question on the tip of her tongue but swallowed down in seconds.

He hasn’t worn one there ever since.

“I know it’s stupid but, my rings mean a lot to me, you know? They all have their place and their reasons and it just — it felt wrong once you stayed the night because I’ve always had intentions on spending my life with you, I just didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Her eyes water as he speaks, feeling more loved and cherished than she ever has before. And there’s this sense of peace that washes over her knowing that he’s always seen himself with her, even before they had gotten together, because that’s all she had ever seen since the moment she laid eyes on him.

“I just don’t like that it’s so empty when my heart isn’t, so I figured this would be perfect for us.”

Y/n sniffles, holding back a sob as she nods her head. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

He smiles, his fingers gripping hers before taking the ring from her hand, holding it out to her. And he slips it onto her left ring finger, admiring the way it looks on her and drooling at the idea of them sharing something so sacred and promising together.

He kisses it.

And Y/n doesn’t hesitate to then take his ring out of the box, her stomach fluttering at the intimacy of it all as she slips the silver band on the only empty finger he has. It’s so real — the feeling of it all, seeing a token of his devotion to her out for the whole world to see.

“I love it so much, H.” She whispers, intertwining their hands together. “This is just… so much. All of this and you… it’s all so much. I love you so much.”

He pulls her to him, her lips so close to his he has no choice but to lay a kiss to them. But what was supposed to be slow and delicate ended as a mini makeout session — much like the ones they had in the break room at work, hidden behind closed doors, before they were much of anything besides two people absolutely desperate for each other.

“This is all I wanted.” Y/n whispers between their kisses, referring to the man she’s holding and loving and praising between her arms. “I got everything I wanted.”

Forever and always.

[rafescoke]

Crime ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

masterlist

Read the previous part: Part #1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader would do anything for the boy she loves from a summer ago.

Warnings: Story takes place at the start of season 2 (and some flashbacks from season 1), swearing, angst, death penalty, gaslighting, reader just needing help

“Get the fuck away,” she said against the pattering of the rain, still walking tiredly. She tried to blink to clear off her eyesight, but the rain was getting heavier. She hated the fact that her only choice was to get into the car, or else she would probably be sick until the end of the summer.

The car stopped, and whoever in that car sighed. “I don’t have time, and I won’t leave you alone. Get in.”

“Fuck off,” she said again, feeling her tank top sticking to her body. She felt extremely cold now, not wearing proper clothes or bringing some type of an umbrella.

“Get in,” he sighed again, and when the lightning struck a tree not far from where she was standing, she realised she really didn’t have a choice.

She placed herself into the Range Rover, wetting the seat and the carpet, and she could hear the faint music coming from the radio. She didn’t dare glance at the boy beside him, and he didn’t waste anymore time before hitting the breaks and speeding down the road.

“So you’re stalking me now?”

Rafe laughed, “I won’t call it stalking. Perhaps protecting.”

(Y/N) scoffed, watching the car freshener swaying from the rearview mirror. It was the freshener from before, and (Y/N) wondered if he ever changed It.

“What are you doing at the Chateau?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled, slightly shivering from the rain before. “Why? Are you mad?”

He stayed shut, his eyes focusing on the road, and (Y/N) crossed her arms again.

“I saw you kissed him.”

“Of course,” she laughed shrilly, not looking at him. “What else did you see? Did you stalk me in New York too?”

He shrugged, “Should’ve.”

“Fucking psycho,” she muttered under her breath. “Now what? You’re going to kill me like you murdered that sheriff?”

She watched as Rafe’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his eyes staring straight at the road. For a second she was afraid of him, but knew he would never hurt her, not when he loved her a bit too much.

“I fucking hate you,” she spat, crossing her arms. “And I wish I’ve never met you.”

“Say that again, and I’ll fucking kill you,” he breathed, and (Y/N) gritted her teeth. She watched him from the corners of her eyes, his fingers still etched onto the steering wheel, his face contorted in anger.

“You should be in jail,” she said again, and she didn’t know why she wouldn’t just shut up. She guessed she was probably tired of being treated like shit, and she wanted to put an end to it.

Rafe accelerated the car, driving straight back to Figure 8, and all those time they didn’t speak, just sitting in the silence as (Y/N) cried, thinking of what she had gotten herself into.

She was covering up for a crime.

If this news ever goes out she would never get a place in college, and all of her future dreams would be ruined.

She jolted out of her thoughts when the car stopped abruptly, and she looked at the view outside. The bold font of ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Station’ greeted her, and she turned to look at Rafe quickly.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” She grunted, her heart beating wildly.

“Go. You’re done covering up for me? Go. Go and fucking tell them that Rafe Cameron murdered Sheriff Peterkin!” He expressed, his eyes flaring up in anger. “Isn’t that what you fucking want?”

(Y/N) stayed silent, her eyes glassy. The boy in front of her was breathing heavily, and she noticed how different he was from before.

His face had become smaller, and his cheekbones were more apparent. He didn’t slick his hair back anymore and just let them messily part, and his glowing blue eyes were now dark.

She held him in her hands, placing her forehead against his. “I don’t mean it like that, Rafe.”

Rafe closed his eyes, breathing into her scent that he had missed so much, and his hands instantly went up to her hair. He bit his lips, feeling her now, and wished he would never have to part from her again.

“They’re having a hearing for John B,” Rafe said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And they’re calling you for the hearing too.”

She sucked in a breath, knowing this was bound to happen, “Rafe, I-”

“I’m not forcing you to cover up for me,” he whispered, “I get it if you won’t do it anymore. You hate me, and it’s okay. I would do the same.”

The tears were streaming down her face now, and she couldn’t bring herself to wipe them away. She held him close, still caressing his face, and bit her lips to stop a whimper.

“My dad’s going to ask you to cover up for me, and it’s okay if you won’t do it on the day of the hearing,” he continued, and she watched a tear roll down his face. He quickly wiped them away, pulling himself away and sighing before the steering wheel. “I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Rafe,” she sighed. This was exactly the problem; seeing him so weak under her, and she wanted nothing but to stay with him forever.

She held him close as he sobbed onto her lap, running her fingers through his hair.

Would she do it? Would she actually do this?

“I’ll do it,” she said, and Rafe quickly looked up to her, shaking his head. “I’ll do it,” she repeated, her eyes certain.

“You don’t have to,” he said, cupping her face. “Oh, baby, thank you, I love you so much. I love you so much.”

The news about (Y/N) having to stand for the hearing wasn’t accepted well by her parents, and Mr (Y/L/N) argued until the night sky settled in with Ward about how this will affect her college applications, to which Ward promised he would do everything in his will to help her get into the best college in the states.

The hearing was set not until next week, but (Y/N) could already feel the pressure building up in her stomach. It was between justice and Rafe now, and she didn’t know what to choose.

Rafe had been there with her throughout the whole week, just staying in bed with her, hugging her close and never letting go. It was just like their usual Sunday mornings last year, but this wasn’t as peaceful as that.

“I love you,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. (Y/N) shifted, so that she was facing the other way, and she wished she didn’t have to have such a hard time thinking about what she would be saying during the hearing.

All her life, she was told to always tell the truth, especially when there’s somebody falsely accused. But she loved Rafe too much, and she wouldn’t let him go even for a second again.

It was the night before the hearing that Rafe had to leave and see her tomorrow when Mrs (Y/L/N) entered her room, placing herself beside the lump under the blanket.

“Hey, mom,” she said, her voice croaky.

“Hey,” she smiled weakly, placing her hands against her cheeks. (Y/N) leaned into her touch, and wished she was still a little child. “Did Rafe do it?”

“Huh?” She sat up straight, rubbing her eyes. She laughed nervously, “Mom, what are you saying?”

“All I’m saying is,” she sighed, “It’s okay if he did it. You can tell me, (Y/N). I’m always here for you.”

She so badly wanted to tell her mother, to confess about the whole thing and cried against her arms. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to part with Rafe again, and she wouldn’t do it even for a few seconds.

“He didn’t,” she lied, laying her head against the pillow again. “It was John B.”

“Okay,” she nodded, but (Y/N) could feel that she knew all along.

“You must do the right thing, okay?” Was all she said, before she placed another soft kiss against her forehead and left her to cry her heart out until the morning sun appeared.

. . .

(Y/N) glanced at Rafe and his father behind her, and quickly looked back at the judge. She closed her eyes, feeling so shaky, and cleared her throat.

“I was with Rafe, we were just there to send, um, Ward off to the Bahamas. I was, uh, alone with him,” she started, her voice so shaky she felt as if she had just confessed the truth. She cleared her throat again, “We saw, um, Sheriff Peterkin and um, John B, Ward and Sarah.”

“Did Rafe Cameron shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

It felt like a slap across her face, and she didn’t know what to do. She glanced at John B again, in his orange suit, looking at her with pleading eyes. She looked her parents, determined that she was not guilty, and back to Rafe, who was on the edge of crying.

“(Y/N)? Did Rafe Cameron shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

(Y/N) thoughts wandered to the first time she and Rafe had sex. It happened in a party, and (Y/N) never regretted her actions on that day. That was only a few days after he had asked her to become his girlfriend, and 4 days away before the murder of the sheriff took place.

“You’re drunk,” she laughed, pushing him onto the sofa before climbing on top of him. This was usual between the two of them, always teasing each other but never really acting on it. But (Y/N) felt different that day, and she wanted the whole him.

“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow from under her, his fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. He turned her over so she was now under him, and she giggled ferociously, closing her eyes. His fingers trailed down to her cheeks, and he bit his lips as she let out a whimper.

He leaned closer, his lips nibbling on her earlobe. She groaned, tugging on his head, “What should we do then?”

“(Y/N), did Rafe shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

(Y/N) looked up to the judge, her eyes glassy and her lips trembling. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and voiced out her own version of truth.

“It was John B who shot Sheriff Peterkin.”

The whole crowd went wild, Kie was screaming from the back, and she could hear Ward exclaiming happily, satisfied. She bit her lips, knowing she just committed a crime, and looked at John B.

Rafe went to put his arms around her, whispering an ‘are you okay?’ to which she nodded at, but she was far from okay; she felt like screaming her heart out.

Rafe placed another kiss against the back of her head before reclaiming his seat beside Ward, his body relaxing.

“John Booker Routledge, pursuant to the North Carolina statute section 14, you are charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances. The maximum sentence would be the death penalty.”

The crowd broke out into chaos again, and (Y/N) had never felt weaker than before. Rafe quickly pulled her up, whispering comforting words into her ear, all while Kie and the other pogues tried to surround her.

“(Y/N), it’s not too late-” JJ tried to reach her, “(Y/N), please. Don’t fucking do this to me! You know the truth!”

“Fucking move,” Rafe muttered, still wrapping his arms around (Y/N) and walking towards the exit. She felt lifeless under his touch, so weak she could feel herself fainting.

She just sent someone to a death penalty.

“Murderer!” Kie yelled, just before Rafe could put her into the car, caressing her hair and letting her drop onto his lap, trembling intensely.

“You’re fine,” he whispered, soothing her hair as the car drove away, and the screams behind her slowly disappeared. “You’re fine.”

He kissed her on her forehead, “Thank you, baby. I love you. I love you so much.”

Her head had never felt more painful, and she could hear a ringing tone thrumming against her eardrums. She tugged on Rafe’s wrist, pulling him close. All in all, she was glad to be back into his arms.

[yslkook]

BORDERSZ (4)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook accompanies you on your journey to purchase a brand new car. jimin charms your pants off (or attempts to) and sora has a proposal for you that you don't quite say no to. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

It takes about two weeks for Jungkook to understand exactly what kind of car you were looking for- essentially a sturdy vehicle that would get you from point A to point B without fail. Something reliable, would last for years and years, something efficient. Not necessarily anything fancy or luxurious.

But Jungkook had finally got you to shyly confess that you wouldn’t mind having heated seats in your car. After all, it had been something you’d dreamed of ever since you had received your driver’s license-

“Nothing else? Just heated seats?” Jungkook implores curiously as he pours over your meticulous binder for the fifth time. Honestly, you didn’t really need his help. You already knew what you were doing. His presence at the dealership will probably ensure that you’re not getting scammed, if anything. He loves his friends (two of them being his roommates), but he knows the truth about how they make their sales.

Mei and Mina call them sleazy car salesmen for a reason after all.

“It’s not ‘just’ heated seats!” You protest, “We never had the money for cars with heated seats when I was growing up. So that’s what I want.”

“How about leather heated seats?” Jungkook suggests, “Leather seats have better ventilation-”

“Oh, I know,” You say matter-of-factly.

“Of course you do. Smart ass.”

It feels incredibly domestic, walking into Namjoon’s car dealership together with Jungkook. Shoulder to shoulder, hopping off of his motorcycle together. He had taken it upon himself to purchase a second helmet, despite your insistence that you would pay for one.

But he had told you not to get a big head, that the helmet wasn’t for you specifically. That he needed a second helmet anyway, and you joining him on the motorcycle more and more as of recently was just the impetus for him to purchase one.

So you say nothing when it’s clear that he had bought the helmet with you in mind- it’s a sleek, glossy lilac color. A similar shade of lilac as your phone case, your favorite small backpack, and your work notebook.

You say nothing about it, only keeping your small smile to yourself.

Of course it’s Jimin who immediately jumps up to offer you assistance today. He gives Jungkook a Cheshire grin, mischief dancing in his eyes. Not that you would know otherwise.

He knows Jimin won’t let him live this down. At least Taehyung might have a little more tact than Jimin.

“So are you both looking for a vehicle together?” Jimin asks once you’re both seated in the comfortable leather seats in front of his desk, when in fact he knows damn well that you’re not.

“Huh? N-no, I’m looking for a car. Jungkook is helping me out,” You say, your face heating up at the implication. Isn’t Jimin one of his roommates?

Jungkook’s tongue pokes his cheek. You notice.

“I’m here to make sure that you or Taehyung don’t scam her,” Jungkook says, “Where’s Joon? He’s less...annoying than you.”

“Joon can’t even drive a fucking car. He has no business trying to sell them,” Jimin says swiftly.

“Er,” You interrupt softly, “Isn’t he your boss? He owns the entire dealership, doesn’t he?”

Jungkook stifles a laugh at your presumed innocence. You offer a slick smile to Jimin when he scoffs in amusement.

“Yes,” Jimin says, “So tell me. How can I make your dreams come true?”

If Jungkook wasn’t with you, you think you would’ve fallen victim to Jimin’s charms long ago. He’s nice, a little flirty and funny. But helpful. You can see how someone might end up paying more than they’d need to with Jimin being their car salesman.

You listen to every word Jimin says, taking notes in a specific section of your binder with your favorite black ballpoint pen. You need to have all the information at your fingertips before making a big decision, no matter what it is. Jungkook had teased you for it at first, but he’s become accustomed to your thought process.

Jimin has shown you at least five different types of models of cars ranging from sedans to SUVs. In theory, they all fit the bill. But you haven’t really felt the connection with any of them.

Jimin is nothing if not patient, though.

“I’m sorry,” You say, “I know I’m being meticulous. You must be annoyed.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart,” Jimin shrugs, “Besides, you can repay me with your phone number maybe, huh?”

“That doesn’t sound like an ethical business practice,” You say flatly while Jungkook glares at Jimin (who only smirks at him in return), “You already have it. From when I made the appointment.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“You wish,” You roll your eyes, “Does every one of your clients get this treatment or is it just me?”

“Nah, it’s just anyone who catches Jungkookie’s eye,” Jimin winks at you and Jungkook is about to strangle his roommate. Perhaps he should put an ad out for a new roommate, considering he might kill his current one in the next five minutes.

“O-oh,” You falter, cheeks blazing at this point, “Can we look at a few more? I’m gonna use the restroom really quickly. Maybe even grab a coffee.”

“Sure, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Will you fuckin’ stop it? I can’t believe you,” Jungkook hisses, “We’re literally at your workplace and you’re putting the moves on her-”

“Oh, will you relax,” Jimin says breezily, “I’m just seeing if she’ll take the bait.”

“There’s no reason for that shit,” Jungkook says, glaring at his friend, “Cut it out.”

“I like her,” Jimin says, as if he hadn’t spoken, “She’s cute.”

“Back off,” Jungkook says, “And while we’re at it, just for you being an ass. You’re gonna give her heated seats for free.”

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the car that Jimin is currently telling you about. He can already tell from your wide eyes and soft, excited smile that this is the one. You’re already running the checklist through your head, physically looking at your notes as Jimin easily answers your questions.

“Can I take her for a test drive?” You ask Jimin and he somehow produces a set of keys for the exact model from his pocket.

“I knew this would be the one…” Jimin says as he takes you to the parking lot to grab the test car. Jungkook rolls his eyes in fondness and heads off to find his other roommate, Taehyung. And to say hello to his friend, Namjoon.

“It suits you,” Jimin says once you’d taken the car out for a drive and brought it back safely.

“You think so?” You ask, giving the keys back to him, “I bet you say that to everyone.”

“Only when I mean it, sweetheart,” Jimin winks at you.

“How lucky for me,” You mutter under your breath, “So...what are the next steps?”

“I bring out the contract, you sign it, and you take your new car home,” Jimin says confidently.

“Yeah,” You say dreamily and look outside to the car in longing. You’ve done the homework, done the research. Went through this logically and meticulously. Even if the car does start depreciating the minute you step out of the dealership… You want it. It checks all of the boxes, you know you’ll get your money’s worth from it.

But before you give Jimin the okay to draw up the contracts, you want to tell Jungkook. You spot him talking to Taehyung, his bunny smile on display (which makes you smile in turn) and excuse yourself from Jimin for a minute to go after Jungkook.

“Hi,” You say and introduce yourself to Taehyung, who offers you a wide, boxy smile, “I’m gonna get it. The car, I mean. I love her.”

“She passed the vibe check?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah. She passed the vibe check.”

When you comb through the hefty contract with sharp eyes, Jungkook is somewhat amused to see the free of charge cost for the heated seats. Jimin only winks at him in response.

You can’t seem to find anywhere else where Jimin may be overcharging you, so you ask Jungkook to review it, too. And surprisingly, Jungkook finds nothing out of the ordinary. He knows how Jimin operates here, trying to gain any extra cent of commission that he can. Not that that’s a terrible thing.

“It’s yours, sweetheart,” Jimin says fifteen minutes later, once you sign your name on the dotted line.

“Really?” You let out an exhilarated laugh, adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins, “Really, really?”

“Keys are yours, and someone will bring the car out front for you,” Jimin smiles, “Congratulations on your first car. I’m honored that you chose me to help you make this purchase.”

“Wouldn’t have had it any other way, Jimin,” You beam. After a moment of deliberation, “Oh, by the way- have fun on your date with Mina tonight. I heard all about it.”

Mischief dances in your eyes and Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a surprised laugh. Jungkook looks at you proudly- that’s what Jimin gets for being a menace.

Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks you out of the dealership and you slowly wrap a tentative, shy arm around his waist. You both wait shoulder to shoulder for one of the dealership boys to bring your brand new car out front.

In the meantime, you try to pluck up the courage to ask Jungkook to have a drink with you after. To celebrate and to treat your friend for helping you out for the last few weeks. You bite your bottom lip in nervousness and Jungkook notices. He wants nothing more than to gently pull your bottom lip out of your own grip, but refrains from doing so.

But you realize, it’s Jungkook, this is your friend and the comforting, warm scent of laundry that envelopes you gives you a little courage.

“Do you want to grab a drink or something after this?” You ask softly, “I… wanted to treat you. For helping me the last few weeks with the car stuff.”

“C’mon, baby. You know I’ll never say no to a pretty girl buying me a drink,” Jungkook says, lips pulled apart into a sly smirk.

“Oh, that’s all I am to you? A pretty girl?” You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully, despite the heat in your cheeks.

“Not at all,” Jungkook murmurs, tightening his hold around your shoulders and looking at you with sincerity dripping from his big, brown eyes, “You’re my pretty girl.”

If he didn’t have a strong arm around your shoulders, you’re certain you would’ve evaporated into the floor at his words.

The image of Jungkook smoking outside of the bar right under the glowing, purple neon lights is an image you haven’t seen very often. A strand of dark hair falls in front of his face as he lights his cigarette, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Even from this distance, you can see the purse of his lips and the silver glint of rings on his fingers. It shouldn’t send a rush down your spine the way it does, but you won’t deny it. When it comes to Jungkook, you won’t deny your feelings. Or your attraction.

For some reason, a thought crosses your mind- you hadn’t told Sora that you had purchased a new car. Much less that Jungkook had helped you pick one out. But you push her from your mind easily, as if you’ve been doing the last few weeks. It’s been difficult for you to keep Jungkook out of your conversations with Sora- she always has a way of bringing him up more than not.

But it’s not just Jungkook she has a strong, stubborn opinion on. It’s everything these days- you had showed her cars that you were interested in and she had shot every one of them down, she always has something to say about your passion for work (or rather she never pays enough attention about it), and she even had something negative to say when you had timidly brought up that you were maybe thinking about another ear piercing.

You’re growing tired of it. You find yourself getting nervous around her, like you’re walking on eggshells around her. Even when she just texts you, your heart speeds up in anxiety. But at the same time, there is a voice in your head telling you not to upset her.

As if that’s somehow the worst thing that could ever happen. Objectively, you know Sora. You know she’s stubborn and loud in her opinions and always has to get her way. But at the core of it all, you want to believe that she has a good heart. Because if she doesn’t have a good heart… Then what were you doing this to yourself for? What were you surrounding yourself with all of this negativity for?

You can sense Jungkook’s dislike of her, even if he doesn’t outright say it. But you’re no idiot. Mina and Mei have been honest with you on their opinions of her. So has Yoongi and Hobi.

They all think she’s dragging you down and that you’ll spiral in her negativity if you don’t open your eyes. They’ve all had a few choice words for her, but you find yourself uneasy whenever the topic of Sora comes up.

The more you hear it, the more you wonder about your supposed best friend. But you push those sour thoughts away to focus on the man in your field of vision.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach him on unsteady feet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jungkook mutters with the cigarette in between his lips when you get closer to get a good look at him.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” You reply, eyes subconsciously wandering to the cigarette. Your nose scrunches at the smell without you even realizing it.

“You look like my mom when she first saw me smoking,” Jungkook says bluntly.

“Your mom? You really wanna compare me to your mother?” You raise an eyebrow, “Don’t know what that says about you, Jungkook.” Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh at that.

“Shut up,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and peels himself off of the brick wall before putting his cigarette out and tossing it in the ashtray next to him, “I think you owe me a drink?”

Jungkook, you decide, is dangerous and warm all at once. The starry glint of his big, doe eyes throws you off more than once, leaving you either stammering over your words or choking on your drink when you try to reply to him.

The bar is quiet and nearly empty, only the sounds of faint music playing in the background to keep you both company. You’re both facing each other at the bar, knees touching ever so slightly.

Even that simple touch makes you feel warm all over.

Jungkook slides your drink towards you, a soft ‘thank you’ pushing itself out of your lips. You suppress a shiver when his ring clad fingers brush over yours, and he notices the way you tense up a little bit with his touch.

He appreciates the way the dim lights shine on your hair and illuminate the planes of your pretty face. He thinks it’s the perfect lighting for a photo of you- the dark colored jacket and your dark wash jeans blending into the colors of the bar around you. Something at the base of your neck glints as you turn to face him.

“Cheers, to your new car,” Jungkook murmurs, tipping his glass towards yours.

“Cheers to you for helping me,” You reply with a smile, clinking your drink with his.

“Pleasure’s all mine, baby,” Jungkook says, “You deserve it.”

“Deserve a vehicle that will have hardly any value in ten to fifteen years?”

“You deserve something for yourself,” Jungkook corrects, looking into your eyes as if he can see right through you. You’d told him how you had grown up with one car amongst a family of five, and how money was tight when you were younger. You were the eldest of three, and now that everyone was older, you had slowly started dipping your toes into the concept of having things for yourself.

You whisper a soft thank you and take a sip of your drink. “My parents were so excited about the car,” You say quietly, “Told them I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh? You told your parents about me?”

“Had to tell them about the man who got me heated seats for free,” You reply with a knowing grin, “You think I didn’t catch that?”

“Heated seats were the least Jimin could’ve done,” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

You wave him off, “I like him. I could see why him and Mina are good together. She told me they’ve had this weird on and off thing for, like, a year now? Like c’mon. Get it together.”

“Yeah. Don’t know why they keep denying the inevitable,” He says, voice full of something barely concealed.

“The inevitable?”

“They both have their issues but… They would make it work if they sorted themselves out,” He says softly, a tenderness to his eyes that makes your belly flip. You don’t know if he’s talking about Jimin and Mina or about… something else.

Something else being you and him.

“Maybe one of them is scared,” You whisper.

“They can work through it together,” Jungkook replies instantly. The air in between you both is charged, plush with tension and electricity. You look at him unsurely, with wide eyes, and god, if Jungkook doesn’t want to sweep you off of your feet and pull you in for a kiss.

“Jungkook, I-” You murmur, voice soft and deafening, silky like honey in his ears. The moment is right there, ripe for you, ripe for him...

And then your phone starts ringing, and Jungkook has never heard a worse sound. Your chest drops for a second when you see that it’s Sora calling you, and Jungkook has never felt as frustrated as he does right in this moment. Each significant moment of frustration over the past few months has Sora linked to it. He wonders if she has a radar for interrupting at the worst possible moments.

You give him an apologetic glance before answering the phone. She only calls if it’s important or if she needs you so you won’t risk it.

“H-hello-”

“You’ll never guess what I just did,” Comes Sora’s excited voice through the receiver. It’s too sugary, too sweet. You wince.

“What’s that?” You mumble, shoulders drooping.

“Got you a date for this Friday, you remember Yunho right?” She exclaims. If your heart wasn’t on the floor already, it certainly was by now. “He wants to take you out- he’s the lawyer, remember?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” You say weakly, “But-”

Jungkook’s eyes flash at your suddenly dejected frown. That’s what Sora does- she takes you and she turns your happiness into something sad. It’s like she can’t stand to see you happy about something that doesn’t align with her “vision”.

“You can thank me later, babe,” Sora says cheerily. This time, you visibly cringe as you try to protest. Try to tell her that you don’t want a date with this man, that you only want a date with the man in front of you. But you can’t get the words out, she won’t listen and she hangs up on you before you can get a word in edgewise.

“Sorry about that,” You mutter.

“Why? She’s your friend. Not mine,” Jungkook says brusquely and you bristle at his bluntness.

You’re distracted for the rest of the evening, mind on another wavelength. He knows you’re upset, but he doesn’t push. He gets you to smile and laugh a few times, only for your eyes to turn sad right after.

Jungkook only wishes that you’d be able to see what was right in front of you.

TAGS: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe

[arvandus]

Congratulations on the big 500 ^-^ I'm so happy for you! Could I get a fluffy #24 with Dabi, pretty please? 🥺👉👈

I’m finally getting to thissss! I’m so, so sorry for the delay. For some reason I struggled with this one for a while, then suddenly something clicked, and inspiration took over. I really enjoyed writing this, it felt very cathartic. It might feel a little heavy/emotional at first but trust me when I say that it ends with fluff.

#24: You're The Only Thing That Matters

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Word count: 1825

Warnings: light angst(?), fluff

---------

You hadn’t meant for this to happen. Then again, no one ever does. It’s not like anyone ever plans for their apartment to get broken into, their personal items stolen...

Then again, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, not with a neighborhood like this. But it was the neighborhood you could afford. Now here you are, hanging out across the street at the local market, too afraid to return upstairs to your ransacked home. You don’t have a car to drive yourself to a motel to stay the night, you don’t trust nighttime public transportation, and you don’t have enough money for an Uber. But you have to go somewhere. So, you take your phone and called the first person that comes to mind...

Dabi.

You can’t help but laugh that his number is the first one you think to dial. From the surface it makes sense – you two have been seeing each other, so of course he should be someone you can trust enough reach out to. But this is Dabi. Even with your intimate relationship with each other, he is often distant and, more often than not, entirely unavailable. It doesn’t surprise you too much... he’s a villain, after all, and sometimes that villain life requires him to disappear for periods at a time.

Which is why you are honestly surprised when he picks up.

“What?” he says gruffly, like he doesn’t have your number saved in his phone; he knows it’s you on the other end.

You bite your lip before answering. “Um, hey, Dabi. It’s me.”

Already you’re struggling to keep your voice from quivering with unshed tears. If you let yourself cry now, you wouldn’t be able to stop, and this really isn’t the place for it. You watch as an old man pushes a cart past you at a snail’s pace, his gnarled fingers grabbing a bag of rice from the shelf.

Dabi must have heard the emotion in your tone though, because his next words come out slightly softer. “Hey, doll. What’s up? Ain’t it a little late for a phone call?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just...” you take a steady breath through your nose in an attempt to ease your jitters. “My place got robbed, and... I need a place to stay for tonight.”

You hear voices in the background, and Dabi growls at them to ‘shut the hell up.’

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Am I bothering you? I didn’t realize you were working...”

“It’s fine, doll.” Dabi replies. “Yeah, you can crash here.”

More arguing. But a moment later, you hear the click of a door being closed and the background noise disappears.

“I’m headin’ over.” Dabi’s voice comes through clearer than before now that there are no other voices coming through the receiver. His deep tone makes your pulse slow down to a manageable pace, and you take a deep sigh a relief. “Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at the grocery store across the street.” You reply.

“Stay there.” His words are an order, his voice unusually firm. Is that... concern you hear?

“They close in fifteen minutes.” You say nervously.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

You hear the click and the call ends, and you really wish it didn’t. Then again, there was no telling where Dabi was, or what he was in the middle of when you had called.

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait, each minute dragging on longer than the last until you’re certain that you’re in hell, watching time slow to an endless crawl. The ten-minute mark comes and goes, and Dabi is nowhere to be found, and now you’re struggling to keep the panic down. What if he doesn’t come?

But just as the dreaded thought enters your mind, he’s there, appearing next to your shoulder like an apparition, a dark angel disguised in a black hoodie, his mouth covered. You nearly jump out of your skin when he puts an arm around you before you quickly realize it’s him, your protector.

Already you can feel the tears brimming in your lashes, but his words quickly interrupt the flow like a stopper.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispers in your ear. “None of that now.”

He guides you out of the store into the dark night and you stare across the street at your apartment complex. The building is tall and old, looming over you like a bad dream as visions of your ruined home flash in your mind.

“D’ya need to grab anything from your place?” he asks. You shake your head. You don’t want to go in there, even with Dabi present.

“Didja lock the door?” he asks again, and you shake your head again.

“Whoever it was broke it.” You reply. “Please, I just want to go...”

He stares at you for a moment, his blue half-lidded eyes reading the look on your face before he looks away.

“Well, c’mon then.” He says. He guides you to the subway. Once you get on the train, you sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder as the empty train car sways and bumps on the tracks. You can feel the fear begin to fade away with each passing of the flashing lights through the dirty windows, graffiti carved into their acrylic surface. You interlace your fingers in his, and for once he doesn’t fight it, doesn’t recoil his hand to the safety of his pockets.

The ride is silent and so is the walk to his hideout. He leads you in through the rickety door with the dented doorknob where a ragtag group of people lounge on dirty couches. Your body stiffens instantly, your hand tightening around his as if doing so would fill you with courage you didn’t have.

A man with white hair with the slightest tint of blue-grey glared at you with red eyes. “I thought we agreed on no outsiders?” his voice comes through with a growl, carried on a sneer past scarred lips.

“Shut up.” Dabi snaps at him as he leads you past the group to another door that leads to a hallway.

A couple doors down and he pulls you into what you can only assume is his room – after all, it’s your first time being here; Dabi had never let you visit him before.

“It’s not much, but it’s safe.” Dabi comments as he closes the door behind you.

The bed is messy, the mattress old. You don’t care though. The space smells of Dabi, and as soon as your brain registers that you’re no longer in danger, you buckle down onto his bed and begin to cry with your face in your hands as the aftermath of emotions overflows into your palms.

Dabi removes his hoodie and kneels before you. He watches you in silence, the glaze of his eyes never betraying the emotions tucked away in secrecy. He hates seeing you like this, hates watching you fall apart in front of him. It makes him feel useless. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes your hand from your face, holding your fingers in his warm palm. He can feel the wetness of your tears on them, and he fights the urge to increase his body temperature, to evaporate the evidence of your pain from his skin. Your eyes catch his, red and puffy, and before he can react you throw your arms around his neck and fall into his lap. He catches you – how could he not? – and holds you to him as you empty your emotions into his shoulder.

When the well of your tears has finally dried, you wipe your eyes with the heel of your hand and pull away from him slightly. Dabi can see the exhaustion falling over you in real time, your shoulders slumping and your hold on him loosening into a relaxed grip.

“I’m sorry, I... I just... it’s been a really bad day.” You say, your eyes downcast.

Dabi can’t help but give a dry chuckle as he helps you up to your feet. “Yeah, no shit.”

He sits on the bed and pulls you with him until you’re both lying down on his messy sheets, with you curled into his side.

“Thank you for coming to get me...” you whisper as you rest your cheek against his chest.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he teases, but his smile falters when your breath hitches and you don’t answer.

It cuts him deeper than he expects, but at the same time he’s not surprised... he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend – is that even what he is? Is that what he’s been to you? It wasn’t like you two ever discussed it; you two just... were. He’s given you so little...

Dabi swallows before he continues, his voice quieter this time, quieter than he’s ever been with you before. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” The confession feels weird on his tongue, like a foreign language, but he pushes forward, determined to say what he should have told you sooner. His voice drops even lower to a barely audible whisper. “I’ll always come for you.”

Despite the hush of his words, they feel like a shout. The admission leaves him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, and a part of him wishes he could take them back, simply because of what they mean. But they don’t come without their own reward - you relax at his words, your body molding against his as your arms tighten around him. It’s the first time he’s been so open with you and the nervousness in his veins gives way to a light euphoria at your acceptance. His arm tightens around you as if he’s afraid you’ll melt away, as if his touch is the only thing keeping you real, his perfect dream come to life. Within minutes, your breaths become deep and even, and Dabi realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on him, your body giving way to its exhaustion after all that had happened. He stares down at you for a long, quiet moment, watching you sleep on him.

Dabi had never put anyone else first before, not even you despite your closeness. But when he answered your call and heard the fear in your voice, it was as if the ground had been pulled out from under him, his entire world thrown into chaos. If anything had happened to you... If you’d gotten hurt in any way...

His grip on you tightens a little more and he brushes his lips against your hair. Maybe it’s the bravery he’s feeling at your acceptance of him. Or maybe it’s the fear of what could have been. But his next words come out in a hushed whisper, a secret confession meant more for himself than you.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

And even though you’re supposed to be asleep, your soft words hum into his chest, burying themselves like sunflower seeds.

“I love you too.”

[navalcriminalimagines]

"Can you shut up for once in your life?" and "Did you just rip my pants?" With Gibbs please

That wasn't an easy one, but it turned out okay, I think? Let me know! ❤️

Also, am I the only one that never understood the character of Allison Hart? She was--useless, wasn't she?

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

Shut up

Saying you're pissed is an understatement. You're annoyed, sad and hurt. For the past few weeks, everything is going downhill and you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It's started with this lawyer showing up on purpose to be in your boss's way. According to Rule 13: Never involve lawyers, Gibbs should have turned her down - especially since she's working for Colonel Bell, but somehow, your stupid boss seems interested in her. Now, there are chatters in the team, saying that they actually hooked up at some point.

Were you jealous? Yeah, maybe. Well, okay, you definitely are. But it's your fault, you've had this crush on Gibbs from the moment you met him, but you never acted on it. You respect his rules, no matter how much you hate some of them, mostly the number 12.

Then, you had an unexpected visit from your mother, over the weekend. You and her never had the best relationship, but it's gotten worst since you're an adult. She doesn't understand your life choices and doesn't chew her words with you. She spent the entire weekend telling you that you should quit your job to do something less dangerous, and more 'intellectual', and that you should go out and meet somebody cause "you're not getting any younger, sweetie. Women have a biological clock, remember."

Her flight back home never came soon enough.

Lastly, this shitty case came in. Not only, it's a fucking mess, but it involves FBI and most importantly, your stupid ex. Worst part is, he's being all nice and charming with you, as if he never cheated on you and broke your heart years ago.

"I can't believe you hired him, Fornell," you mutter to the Senior FBI Agent, as the two of you are in the elevator.

"I didn't. He was assigned to this case, and I think he asked for it," Tobias looks intensely at you to make sure you understand what he means.

"Great, exactly what I needed," you growl.

"You seem pretty off, Y/N. Is everything okay?"

"I don't know what I'm doing with my life, but other than that, yeah, everything is amazing," you sarcastically say to him. Thankfully, the doors open at the same moment and you rush to the bullpen.

As if the world is testing you and your patience, Kyle is here, along with that lawyer Allison Hart. You sit at your desk, avoiding everyone, until Gibbs orders you to follow him to Abby's lab.

"Can I come, too?" Kyle asks.

You look at Gibbs for support, hoping he'd turn him down, but that bastard just motions him to follow. He knows who Kyle is, he knows what he did to you, why in the world is he forcing you to spend time with him? Does he hate you that much?

In the elevator, you stand in the back, arms crossed over your chest. Kyle and Gibbs are standing in front of you. When the doors close, Gibbs takes a quick peak at you over his shoulder. You shot him a death glare and he smirks.

* * * * *

Finally, thanks to Abby and her magic, a breakthrough comes in. Quickly, you and Gibbs are gearing up to go to a suspect house, while Ziva and Tim are waited at the Pentagon. "What are you doing?" Gibbs says to Kyle who's getting ready too.

"Coming with you? It's a joined case,"

"Fornell, explain things to your Probie,"

You can't help but smile at that. That's your Gibbs.

At the house - which is withdraw from civilization, Gibbs takes you with him to one side, while Tim and Ziva goes to the other. As you're circling the house, you can hear gunshots in your direction. In a second, Gibbs grabs your arm and hides the both of you behind a reversed table.

"Oh, great! I can't catch a break, can I?" you exclaim. "First my mum messes up with my head, then my bastard ex shows up, and now I'm being shot at! Not to mention, you. You're being a pain in the ass, Gibbs. What the hell are you doing with that lawyer, anyway? Have you forgotten about your own damn rules? You spend so much time making sure we know and respect them, and you just-- you--"

“Can you shut up for once in your life?” he barks. That's all he has to say? "You're rambling,"

"Yeah, well, at least, one of us is talking," you shot back.

"Now is not the time, L/N,"

You take a deep breath. Maybe he's right, but talking is your response to being shot at. You can't help it, it prevents you from freaking out. "Maybe we can go now," you say, taking a look at the house. "Seems clear,"

"I can see him, second window on the left. Cover me,"

You do as told. You directly shoot at the window Gibbs mentioned, while your boss rushes inside the house. Quickly, you're no longer being shot back at, but you can hear someone running away from the house. You rush behind him, unfortunately you don't have any bullets left. The man manages to get in his car and drives away.

After cursing at loud, you get back inside the house, looking for Gibbs, that you find in the kitchen, sitting on the floor.

"What the hell happened?" you yell at him.

"Did no one tell you he's a trained SEAL? Is your head that much caught up in your ass?"

"Fuck you, Gibbs," you bark back at him. "I'm gonna look around," you start to walk out of the room.

"No! Wait," he calls out. You turn around, hoping he's going to say something nice - cause you know you can't hope for an apology. But all he does is cutting a piece of your pants with his knife.

“Did you just rip my pants?” you yell again, looking at the hole in your pants.

"That's all we need,"

On the ride back to the office, Gibbs explains you that while you were hiding behind the table, you must have sat on some weird flower thingy. Same thing that was find on your victim. If Abby can match what's on the piece of your pants to what she found on the victim, it's case closed.

At least, that's one thing settled. Or, actually two; since the case is closed, you won't have to see Kyle anymore. He obviously throws an offer to dinner at you, but you don't have time to say anything, "She has plans already," Gibbs answers for you. "Let's go, L/N?"

You nod at your boss and follow him to the elevator. "For what's worth, I'm not dating Allison," he confesses. "We just kissed once,"

"Oh, spare me the details, Gibbs, would you?" you roll your eyes so hard, you sure he heard it.

The doors open again, you start to walk out but Gibbs's strong hand grabs your wrist. You turn around and finds yourself face to face with the man you can't dreaming about. "Next time to talk to me like you did at the house, there will be consequences,"

"Right. You'll have to punish me," you smirk and leave.

[kindahoping4forever]

...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies​ for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)

Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...

Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize. 

Word Count: 10,555

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.

Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”

You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”

“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen.  “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”

You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year. 

You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.

When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.

“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.

Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”

“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”

His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person. 

"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.

“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.

The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.

Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”

A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.

You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.

You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.

“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.

You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up. 

“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.” 

“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss. 

You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.

It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.

“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.

You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason. 

You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned. 

Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.

As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.

You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.

Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”

He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.

The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.

With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.

The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.

The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home. 

The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.

Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers. 

You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.

A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.

“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.

He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.

You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.

You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”

“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”

A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti. 

“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.

“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.

You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.

You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight. 

“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.

Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.

You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.

 "Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?" 

You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”

You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle. 

“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”

You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being  peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”

You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.

You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”

He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.

You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.

You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.

“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.

You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.

He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.” 

His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved. 

You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.

He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”

You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”

Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.” 

You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?” 

“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”

“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.

He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.

You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.

He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.

Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”

Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.

You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.

He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.

You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”

He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”

Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.

It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.

Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy. 

He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face. 

You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.

You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you. 

Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.

You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body. 

Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”

You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.

You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."

He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”

His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.

Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm. 

Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.

He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.

Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.

You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.

You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.

"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.

You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.

Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.

You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”

You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.  

Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.

With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.

He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”

You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”

You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.

“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.

The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.

He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”

You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. “You’re warm, though, which was nice.” 

“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away. 

He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”

“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.” 

“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.

You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”

He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”

“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”

“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.

“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.

The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.

“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.

“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.

You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”

Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old. 

Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.

After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.

“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”

“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.” 

You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”

“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs. 

“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”

“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.

You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.

He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.

He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”

“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.

The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.

During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.

Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”

He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”

“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.

You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.

He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin. 

He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”

You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”

A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure. 

“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.

“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.

As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring. 

You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.

His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.

“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”

“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”

“So did I.”

You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.

“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss. 

An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.

“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.

You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.

“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.

You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs. 

You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance. 

Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.

Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.

“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”

You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.

You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.

“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”

Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.

“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”

He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”

Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”

You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.

“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”

“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”

The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.

You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”

Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”

He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.

Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.

“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.

He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”

“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.

You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”

“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.” 

You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”

He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”

You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”

————-

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat & The Spider-man —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

Words: 1,561

Phase two Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

Listen to: ‘Trying to Kill The Moon’ -by Motherfolk

xxvi: Fall

C.C. was not in a good mood when Happy took her on her first day of Junior year. 

He'd woken her up at five in the morning, then made her shower at six. The upside to this was that she was able to have breakfast before leaving, but she wasn't sure it was a sacrifice she was willing to make for a whole year. He'd also made her iron her clothes! Happy was stubborn, and he had a way to make her do things she'd only encountered with Fury.

"Well, Happy's having a blast acting as a father," She commented moodily to Ned. "He's always telling me 'do this'— 'don't slouch!'— 'text me your location if you're with Peter!' and I have to prove that May's in the house with us! He's terrible..."

"Well, now you can cross that off the list: the overprotective parent experience," Ned joked.

"Hey, that's true!" C.C. chuckled.

"Is it weird, not having Pietro around?" Her friend asked. "This is the third time you move out, isn't it tiring?"

"I've spent most of my life moving, the time at Pietro's apartment feels like a fever dream," She smiled. "I'll call him tonight to hear all about his first day. To answer your question, though, I'm used to not living in the same place for long."

"Then it's weirder that you've been here for two years?"

"Yeah, that's kinda weird," She conceded, her eyes stopped at some point in the distance and she grinned. "You know what's even weirder, though? That's my boyfriend!"

Peter was organizing his locker, he wasn't aware of the two teenagers staring at him.

"Yeah, Peter having a long-term relationship with a superhero isn't exactly what I thought would happen," Ned snorted. "That's insane! In a very cool way," he remarked, "but it's not that crazy if I see it from your perspective... he was the first superhero your age you ever met, right? It was expected."

"You think so?" She tilted her head. "How was that expected?"

"Well, a hero's always going to have an easy dating life. Only idiots would choose to make that complicated too."

"I'd never seen it that way," C.C. raised a brow, "but dating Peter is the easiest thing I've done in my life, so you must be right."

They approached Peter, his eyes skimmed over their faces briefly, then he stopped and smiled at her.

"Hey, pretty! I've been looking for you since I got here!"

"What about me?" Ned frowned.

"You're always in my heart, Ned, I don't need to go looking," Peter teased.

"I'll take it," The boy replied with a casual shrug.

"How was your morning, C? Did Happy make you run a mile before breakfast?"

"Don't you dare say that to him, he might get ideas!"

"What's up, losers?"

MJ appeared behind the girl and Ned, making them jump. C.C. was quick to hide her claws.

"We're talking about Happy's dictatorship and how I'll end up running away with Peter."

"Are we thinking of eloping?"

"How about we run away, the four of us, and we live as roomies for the rest of our lives?" Peter offered.

"As long as I'm allowed to bring dogs," MJ hummed.

"As long as they get along with the stray cats C.C. attracts," Ned teased.

"I don't like cats," C.C. wrinkled her nose. "You can bring as many dogs as you please, MJ."

"Happy birthday!" C.C. hugged Peter from behind.

She wasn't big on physical contact but he loved it, so she would try her best to satisfy his needs even when she was feeling a little awkward about it, it was her way of showing she cared.

"Thanks!" He beamed. "Are you coming to my house tonight?"

"Obviously! Is the webhead taking a day off?"

"I heard that his girlfriend threatened to stab him in the leg if he didn't, he's not risking his well-being!"

"I always knew he was smart," She smirked.

"Hey, Pete," MJ looked a little tense. "Here..."

"Aww, thanks!" Peter seized the small present. "You didn't have to!"

"C.C. was driving me crazy so I did it," The girl confessed.

"Oh," The boy tilted his head. "D'you want to come to my place after school? May said I could have my friends over."

"What kind of cake you'll be having?"

"Er... chocolate cake?" He answered.

MJ smiled briefly. "Great choice. See you later."

She walked away. Peter chuckled.

"She's one of a kind..."

"Yeah, that's why I like her so much," C.C. beamed.

"We need to go, Dmitri."

"We have no reason to believe the recent events will affect us in any way. We've been working separately from HYDRA for almost a decade—"

"They're attacking the city! What if the power dies in here, huh? How are we going..."

The man's eyes landed on her, C.C. didn't hesitate and jumped, claws ripping clothes and skin.

She woke up with a start, the girl's pillow was wet with a dark liquid and she scrambled away from it. Practically running towards the door, she pressed the light switch and stared at the blood on the fabric.

C.C. looked down at her hands, only one of them was covered in red, the one that had been lying under her cheek, she became aware of the pulsating pain in her jaw. The girl walked out of the room and straight to the bathroom, staring at her bloodstained reflection.

The claw marks were not that deep, but it would take her at least a whole day to cure. She walked to Happy's room and knocked three times. The man was quick to show up, he looked down and his concern increased.

"What happened? Is someone else in here?"

He moved her away and she followed him to her room, trying not to stumble with her own feet.

"I had a nightmare."

Happy stopped, eyes fixed on her pillow.

"What happened?" He asked, this time in a gentler tone.

"I had a dream..."

She tried to recall it, it was a memory.

"I was dreaming of the day I escaped," She described. "I was attacking someone, and I guess my body reacted on its own... That's weird, I thought I'd forgotten..."

"Come," He guided her back to the bathroom. "Looks pretty bad, kid, you better start thinking of a story to explain that at school."

She sat on the toilet while Happy helped her clean the wound.

"I slipped while I was changing and crashed against my mirror. It was too dark. Everyone knows I wake up super early cause you make me so they'll believe it."

Happy nodded distractedly, he put a big bandaid over the cuts.

"So why are your memories coming back?" He inquired. "Did something happen while you were patrolling with Spider-man the other night?"

"No... but now that you mention it," She frowned. "Ever since I fought Wanda my brain feels more... active. It's like she left the door ajar, and when I'm most relaxed it opens a bit more."

Happy mumbled something about a clean set of sheets. Twenty minutes later she sat at the edge of her bed and stared at her beeper, she decided to press one of its buttons.

"Hey," She spoke quietly. "Are you there?"

It took another try, but Peter answered.

"M'here," He spoke drowsily. "All okay?"

"I had a bad dream," Her eyes started to tear up. "It was scary."

She heard the tussling of sheets, then a mattress squeaking. "Did you hurt yourself again?"

"Yes," She sniffed. "I scratched my face, Happy had to take my pillowcase away cause it had blood."

"Give me five minutes," He replied.

"What?" C.C. dried her tears. "For what?"

"I wanna see you."

"Happy went to bed, Pete..."

"S'alright, I think it's better that way."

True to his word, Peter showed up outside her window about fifteen minutes later, she opened it as quietly as she could, and the boy expertly crept inside.

"How are you not struggling to breathe?" She asked him in shock. "That's the fastest I've ever seen you move across the city!"

"I have my moments," He took off his mask and eyed the bandaid on her face. "How ya feeling?"

She shrugged, walking back to her bed.

"I keep telling you we should clip your claws," He joked.

"You didn't have to come," C.C. said bashfully. "We have school tomorrow, you could've waited..."

"You were crying," He stated. "I wasn't going to ignore that."

She sighed heavily, Peter sat next to her.

"Something's happening with my mind," she began, "I'm having flashbacks... they're not pretty. But I remember a name now... Dmitri."

"That's something," He raised his eyebrows. "That's good!"

"I'm not so sure," She said tensely. "It's been years, Pete. I don't want to dig, I want to forget."

"Don't you want to know if the guy that did all those terrible things to you got what he deserved?"

"If only I were sure it wasn't me who did it," C.C. sighed again. "I know I said I've killed people before, but I'm not sure that's true. I can't recall things, I was starting to believe I've been lying."

Peter held her hand. "If you did, it doesn't mean you'll do it in the future. If you ask me, I don't care how you got out of that lab, I'm just happy you did."

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against the wound.

"You look pretty tonight," She whispered.

Peter laughed under his breath. "Thank you."

C.C. planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Can you stay?" She mumbled sleepily.

"What if Happy comes and finds us?" He hummed.

"As long as we have our clothes on I don't see the problem— and they're staying on," She replied. "Does that disappoints you?"

"No," He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "If you want me to stay then I'm staying."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[bellshazes]

do it again, a My Last Life AU inspired by @opera25. chapter 3: in which Etho experiences the consequences of his actions, Bdubs holds his hand several times, Cleo is a good friend, and the death coffee saga kicks off.

also, here is the playlist I listen to when writing, which includes the titular nada surf song "do it again" and furthermore a lot more the national than is really excusable on a real mix. chapter also under the cut if you prefer to read here over ao3!

Bdubs comes over on Friday evening. Cleo orders pizza in advance and it arrives minutes after he shows up at her front door, cementing the cozy, homey feeling Bdubs always carries with him. When they first met it had almost bowled her over, how familiar and easy it was to start egging him on whenever he got worked up. He and Etho had shown up at her favorite diner for takeout midnight breakfast while she had been hanging out at the bar, chatting with Scott, and without even thinking about it she’d joined their argument, switching sides periodically to keep it going. Years enough have passed that she can’t remember now what it had even been about, but she remembers Bdubs’ instant adoption of her as an ally and the wounded look he gave her when she conceded Etho had some good points, too. Etho had smiled brightly with his eyes and given her the faintest nod of approval, opening up the takeout boxes and settling down on the seat next to her.

She hasn’t seen Bdubs for a few weeks, although he’d sent pictures of his wicked black eye when he’d fallen. It’s mostly faded now, the last of the bruising fading smoothly into the heavy bags around his eyes.

They spend a good while catching up, with Cleo explaining the more unusual taxidermy jobs she’s taken on recently and Bdubs dramatically explaining – nearly to the point of re-enactment – his recent injury, and subsequent wanderings.

“So imagine there’s this game,” Bdubs is saying as Cleo watches him, chin in her hand. “Last one standing wins. But it’s a little, you don’t have just one shot, it’s random for each person how many chances they get. Once you’re on your last one, though, the game changes and you gotta try and take down all the people who aren’t on their last.”

“Oh, I like that.”

“Yeah, and so – until then, you can make friends, it’s all peaceful, you can’t attack anyone else. But it never lasts. There’s this curse, and every week at least one person gets it, and if they don’t kill one of the peaceful people they lose all their chances.”

“When you say chances, do you mean – you’re talking about lives, right? This is a murder game. Which, for the record, I am on board with.”

Bdubs smiles knowingly at her. He heard all the goings-on of her tabletop campaigns and knows exactly what happened to her old D&D group. He’d been an exceptionally good sport about it, showing up for many late-night dinners to let her vent, as if it were a recap of his favorite TV show. “Of course. Lots of drama if you get cursed, trying to decide whether you should betray your ally or confess you’ve been cursed and possibly ruin your chance to surprise anyone… Does it ring a bell?”

Cleo thinks about it. “Battle royale games are popular, but no, it doesn’t.”

“I played it a long time ago, I think, and now I’m desperate to find someone else who remembers it. Frankly, it’s driving me crazy.” He looks it: his eyes are a little too bright, too wide, even accounting for the faded shadow of his nearly healed black eye. “I mean, I’ve been dreaming about it. There must be somebody else who remembers this thing, and if I find them, maybe I can get it out of my head.”

“I don’t know of any games with a boogeyman, sorry.”

“A what.” The way Bdubs says it is more like a threat than a question, but he clears his throat and goes on, suddenly smiling. “You do know it! That’s what the curse was, the boogeyman curse. You already knew. I had a feeling you played too. Oh, Cleo, you have no idea what a relief that is.”

“Hang on, hang on, that doesn’t mean I have any clue what this thing is. What else would you call someone cursed to secretly murder their friends? That’s a boogeyman if I ever heard of one.”

“Naw,” says Bdubs, waving a hand dismissively in her direction. “C’mon, humor me –“

“Have I not been this entire time?”

“Cleo. Okay, alright, what about this. What colors were you thinking of?”

She pauses, wary. “What do you mean, what colors?”

Bdubs doesn’t say a word, just staring with bright shiny eyes at her and tapping two fingers on his leg. Bum pa-dum, bum padum, a steady heartbeat.

“You’re really making me do this.” Cleo sighs. “Green, yellow, red – for the lives you had. It’s like calling it the boogeyman, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“I didn’t say anything about the colors having to be for the life system, that’s on you! But yes, the boogey gets knocked down to red if they can’t kill a green or yellow in time.”

“I’m starting to feel like you’re the boogeyman in this conversation, actually.”

That gets a laugh, strained though it is. “I’m such a perfect boogeyman no one ever saw it coming. And I had it twice.”

“I can’t see how when you have such an… intimidating reputation.”

Bdubs snorts. He hasn’t stopped drumming on his leg. “Very funny, coming from you. Your reputation always preceded you.”

“I’m deliberately choosing to take that as a compliment, for the record. But you’re taking all of this very seriously. Are you sure you’re alright? It’s just some game, you said.” She watches him squirm and leans forward in her seat.

“It’s not just,” he starts, and then stops. Bdubs looks down at his hands. “I have this dream, sometimes. We’re both red and you help me set up a trap, and then you offer to go talk to Etho, because he’s kicked me out. We’d built this whole fort together, you know, and he hated the way I did the stairs, but he let me mess up his walls because he could tell I thought his idea was ugly… but the rules are the rules. And I remember you doing that for me, probably because you thought it’d be fun to threaten him, but I’m sitting here now, and I can see you.” He looks up and directly at her with big sad eyes. “You have to die a couple times to get to red. It wears on you – you’d gone grey and drained, and I swear to you I can see you like it was last time. Right now, just like what I remember. You somehow knew about the boogeyman and red lives before I even worked up the courage to tell you. I can’t be crazy. Right?”

Cleo pauses and holds eye contact. For half a second she imagines a red bandana around Bdubs’ head, but it’s only the force of Bdubs’ belief that snares her. “First of all,” she says slowly, “there are worse things to be than crazy, which I have told you you are many, many times. But you’re still you, and I’m glad you told me. Have you talked to anyone else?”

He lets out an ugly laugh, but he relaxes a fraction. “No. Tango acts like he knows, but I don’t know if he knows he knows. If you know what I mean.” At Cleo’s raised eyebrows, he continues. “I may have not been very nice to him last time, but any time I accidentally make a joke about it he starts frothing at the mouth all confused-like and then sends these weird apology texts after. Even Etho noticed, but when I said it might be because of last time he thought I meant last time we played games. I played it off like a joke, but he’s got no clue.”

“It’s one thing if you’re dreaming of a game that feels like it was real but if other people are reacting like they know your dreams,” says Cleo, and then can’t figure out how the sentence should end. What if other people are dreaming your dreams? That is not a part of any plan. “I don’t know what to make of that. What exactly did you say to him?”

“Oh, you know,” Bdubs says, looking away. “Just saying he’d gladly sacrifice himself for a loyal friend like me.” He pauses. “I may… he might have been the victim of a boogeyman. Who was me.”

“Bdubs,” chides Cleo.

“And he might have given me a life to come back from red that same day. In my defense he was only green and got all his stuff back, which I think was very polite of me. Not that Tango appreciated all my effort.”

“Bdubs! You know how I feel about traitors,” she says, and Bdubs nods fervently, a little sheepish. “But that is in fact pretty funny. It’s hard to know where Tango stands, sometimes.” She’s not sure how she knows this, other than mostly vague impressions of him when she’s visited Bdubs and Etho’s place and he happened to be there. But it feels right when she says it. “How long have you been putting up with all this?

“Couple of weeks now, since I fell.” Bdubs laughs again, rubs at his bruised eye. “That’s how I died the first time, it turns out. Just plummeted from too high up, nobody’s fault but mine. Most of the dreams are about dying, actually. Or Etho trying to kill me. So that’s – I couldn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t know who I could talk to without them freaking out.”

“Hold on, are you avoiding Etho?” Cleo takes a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Bdubs, if you are here in my apartment because you are using me to hide from him I am going to be very cross with you, and then Etho will be very cross with me for throttling you to death and I’ll have even more trouble than you’re worth to deal with.”

“I’m not avoiding him!” says Bdubs defensively. “Not on purpose, anyway. He sleeps most of the day, and since I couldn’t do much work because of the concussion I was out walking or whatever in the evenings until I had to go to sleep, and we just kind of…” He puts the index fingers of both hands together and then moves them apart with a short whistle. “Drifted.”

“I believe you that all of this dream stuff seems creepily real, but you have to know you can’t hold Etho accountable for this stuff, right?” She tries to say it gently, but she’s not sure if it lands that way.

“I know, I know.” Bdubs has the decency to look guilty about it. “I just don’t think he’d take something like this seriously. I mean, if you hadn’t just told me stuff you shouldn’t have known about it before I even told you I might have found somewhere to check myself in. And if I can’t tell him about it, I can’t exactly explain why I almost screamed when he walked into the kitchen behind me last week and I almost couldn’t stop freaking out when I could see the one weird red eye he has in my dreams instead of his regular face.”

“Okay, I do see your point there. Screaming at your roommate is not generally conducive to working things out,” she says, ignoring Bdubs’ protest. It’s easier to rile him up than tether him, but he looks more himself when he’s indignant and sputtering than that far-away look he has whenever he mentions his dreams. “Look, it’s getting late, and I hate to kick you out, but I really think you should go home and at least consider telling Etho something. At least let him know you’re dealing with some stuff, if you won’t explain yourself to him. And if you do that – if you do that, we can talk about this more tomorrow when I am less tired and more capable of giving good advice.”

“That is a lot to ask of a guy, Cleo,” he says, but he stands up when she does. “If I for some reason am prevented from talking to Etho by such things as him being asleep all day, or un-overcomeable anxiety -”

“You’re still welcome to talk,” she says, pulling him into a hug. He laughs into her shoulder, and they stay like that for a long moment. “You have to know that by now. But I have faith in you. Of all people you should know better than to be scared of Etho.”

“Ha,” says Bdubs, but he gives her one genuine, wide smile before moving to the door. “I’ll text you tomorrow how it went. And I really appreciate you taking me seriously. You have no idea how much worse it was, not telling anybody. At least you know, even if I am crazy.”

“Crazy or not, you’re always welcome here.” She holds the door open and Bdubs steps out into the hallway. “Now, be brave, and bring me back good news.”

“You got it boss,” he says, and waves before disappearing around the corner.

After she’s locked the door and surveyed the empty pizza box on the coffee table, she decides to message Joe before going to bed, because while his advice may not always be actionable there is no better person she knows to present a totally hypothetical dream-sharing, possible fake-memory scenario to. In its own way, it is a weird kind of badge of honor that Bdubs came to her first – even before Etho, which is a disconcerting counterbalance.

By the time she’s settling in, she gets a text from Bdubs: just parked, home safe! sweet dreams. It’s unnecessarily ominous, but probably well-meant; she doesn’t bother responding before turning out the lights, and hopes the well-wishing works.

When Bdubs gets back to his apartment, trying to slink quietly to his bedroom to sleep until he can hold Cleo to her promise to talk more about the game when he wakes up, he’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of Etho on the couch, one hand pressed over his eyes and the other dangling off the couch, glasses clutched in a loose fist. At first he’s terrified Etho has been waiting for him, to confront him about being avoidant, but Etho barely reacts to the sound of the door thudding shut. “Etho?”

He only gets a pathetic, garbled moan in response.

“Hey, Etho, are you – are you okay? Look at me,” he says as the rising tide of anxiety swells up. “It’s Bdubs, I’m home, what’s going on?”

Etho turns his head and parts his fingers the tiniest bit to see Bdubs crouched next to him. “Not great,” he says, and then closes his fingers again to seal his hand over his eyes. “I can feel my heart beating.”

Bdubs gently pries Etho’s glasses from his dangling hand to set them on the coffee table. When he loops his own hand around Etho’s wrist, his pulse is far too rapid. “You’re not kidding. Can you sit up for me?”

“No,” says Etho, who begins to lever himself upright anyway.

“Well, you’re feeling good enough to argue, so that’s either a good sign or a sign being mean to me is one of your essential functions. Don’t even think about weighing in on that.” He hasn’t seen Etho like this since – college, at least, and even then it was different, going days without sleep to finish projects or pulling pranks. “How long has this been going on? And what in the world happened?”

When Etho brings up his other hand to press against his chest, his whole arm trembles. “A few hours, and I don’t… know…” he says, trailing off with closed eyes, breathing deeply.

“Alright, okay. Great.” He’s still holding onto Etho’s wrist. “We’re gonna try and stand up, and if that goes south we are going to the emergency room. So give it your best shot here.”

He tries to haul Etho to his feet, and to Etho’s credit he does groan like he’s trying but contributes essentially nothing to holding himself upright. Bdubs maneuvers himself to support Etho, arm around his waist and Etho’s arm slung over his shoulder. He grips Etho’s hand that’s dangling over his shoulder, squeezing it. Etho squeezes weakly back.

“Emergency room it is.” Etho groans again in protest, but Bdubs is already shuffling them out the front door. “Not calling an ambulance and getting you in the car is the compromise, buddy, so you’re gonna have to hang in here with me.”

It’s a challenge to wobble Etho out to his car, fighting to get the passenger door open and then trying with great difficulty to get Etho inside. Mercifully, Etho manages to buckle his own seatbelt by the time Bdubs gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car. He keeps one hand on the wheel but takes Etho’s left hand in his right, afraid that Etho’s pulse will skyrocket further or he’ll somehow disappear or go where Bdubs can’t help him anymore.

This time, it’s Etho who squeezes his hand as he mutters mostly to himself about people cutting him off and getting stuck at red lights when the situation is so urgent.

“Bdubs,” he says. “Hey, Bdubs.” He squeezes his hand again. “I wanted you to know. I’m so glad you were my partner.”

“Hey, what’s with the past tense there?” Bdubs says, glancing quickly over and then back at the road. He speeds up a little more.

“Last time, I know what you mean now. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you in time.” Etho’s grip tightens and stays that way as he talks. “I wasn’t there, and I didn’t keep our promise. I thought we could be together again, and everything would be peachy, but…” He trails off into a sigh and more unintelligible noises.

“When you’re okay, we are gonna have a conversation about this,” Bdubs says, own heart pounding, trying to focus on getting to their destination as quickly as possible. Etho makes occasional comments on the rest of the slightly illegally quick drive to the hospital but it’s hard to make them out amongst the general sounds of misery.

The process of checking into the ER is as onerous as he expected – trying to fill out the paperwork for Etho, who is still more out of it than Bdubs was when he had a head injury, having to put his foot down that he’d like to stay with his partner as much as possible and yes he had the paperwork to back him up, because Etho had made him keep a copy of important things in his wallet after he fell of the roof in case of something like this. He texts Cleo to let her know he won’t be able to make it tomorrow after all, and texts Skizz as well after weighing the pros and cons of freaking him out unnecessarily versus looping their friends in.

Eventually, far longer than he thinks it should have taken, Bdubs is allowed into Etho’s room, where he’s hooked up to an IV to fix the dehydration. The passing of hours and drip have done him good already, although he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Hey,” says Bdubs, pulling a chair closer to Etho’s bedside.

Etho opens one eye and turns his head slightly to smile at Bdubs. “Oops,” he says.

“Yes, oops. You’re severely dehydrated and no one has told me what else. What did you do to yourself?”

“Um,” Etho says. The corner of his mouth twitches. “I may have ordered the most caffeinated thing they could make from the Southlands. I guess they didn’t expect me to drink it all at once.”

Bdubs stares at him, not sure if he wants to laugh hysterically with relief or strangle Etho right there. “You – you are something else, you know that? If you didn’t look so pathetic right now I’d throttle you. Caffeine? You did this to yourself with coffee? I thought – I thought you were dying, Etho, you were talking crazy and shaking and, I don’t know what even. I thought I was gonna lose you, idiot.”

“Now you know how I felt when you fell,” Etho says, but there’s no bite to it. He weakly reaches out a hand toward Bdubs, who takes it in both of his, derailing Bdubs’ indignant counter-argument. “Doctor says I’ll be fine once I get some fluids in me. It’s not like last time.”

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” Bdubs’ heart is in his throat; Etho’s hand is cold between his fingers.

Etho sighs and closes his eyes again. “I’ve been having the weirdest dreams. You and me building a castle made out of snow. Chasing each other around. Skizz and Tango sometimes are there too. That’s what you meant when you said he was mad about last time, right? I remember them like it was real.”

“It would be pretty crazy if you were dreaming the same dreams as me,” Bdubs says slowly, watching Etho’s face. “They’re not very good ones.”

“Mine are a lot of fun, actually. Except…” Etho trails off and doesn’t continue, even when Bdubs waits for more.

“Except?”

“I already told you I was sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t be. Etho, look at me.” He waits until Etho turns his head slowly toward him to make sure Etho understands how serious he is. He hopes his face looks something remotely resembling a grounded, sane person. “We’ll talk about this when you’re better, how about that? Sleep this off and get better and then we can argue like normal over who should be sorry about what.”

“I’d like that. Missed telling you you’re wrong,” he says, sounding tired beyond belief. “Crash is getting to me.”

“I bet it is. Don’t keep yourself awake on account of me. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Etho doesn’t respond after that, and after a few minutes his breathing evens out and his hand relaxes.

Bdubs doesn’t bother trying to sleep. If he and Etho are sharing dreams – a new and possibly even crazier explanation than secret past-life memories – he doesn’t want to intrude now. He stays awake thinking about last time, and how stupid Etho is to have given himself caffeine poisoning over nothing. How stupid it was of him to not notice enough to intervene, to not have been around to talk some sense into him, and how strange it is that Etho thinks he should be sorry for Bdubs’ death.

He remembers fragments from his last death: that he had made some promise that didn’t save him, that cost him his last life. That he died calling Etho’s name, calling out to an Etho who took great joy in menacing him and making him paranoid, who had attacked him in that long dark stairway. It does not comfort him to know Etho thinks he’s responsible for whatever happened.

Of all the things, it’s Etho’s quiet almost-snoring that almost makes him break down, a familiar noise among all the sterile hostility of an unexpected hospital stay. He can’t tell whether he’s laughing or crying, covering his own mouth to try and avoid disturbing the other occupant of the room who has – presumably and hopefully – been asleep the whole time. It’s Etho, after all. Etho, his partner and his best friend and someone he has always felt like he’s known his whole life, from the moment they met. And maybe even longer, it turns out.

He tries to hold onto that, the rock-solid foundation of his current life, and lets what remains of his certainty and Cleo’s confidence carry him into his own slumber.

[evermoreholland]

Paper Rings | Tom Holland

summary ❥ it’s your anniversary and you propose to tom with a song.

warnings ❥ fluff

word count ❥ 2,152

a/n ❥ you can listen to paper rings by taylor swift while reading this because this is obviously what it’s based off of lol. also, this was edited by my good friend @tefilovesreading! 

Today is your second anniversary with your boyfriend, Tom. The past two years have been the best of your life by far. You have had your fair share of relationships, but Tom took you by surprise in his love for you. You were a singer and it was difficult for you to pursue relationships, but Tom understood you because he has gone through similar. You would often write songs about your experiences in relationships. You have been writing a song for Tom for a while now and you thought that today would be a perfect day to show him.

Tom knows that he wants to marry you. He can’t imagine a life without you in it. He has been thinking of how he was going to go about a proposal for months now and he realized that your second anniversary would be the perfect time to confess his never-ending love for you and his commitment to be yours forever.

Tom picked out a ring for you many months before today, without your knowledge. The two of you had talked about marriage before, so a proposal wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. Tom called your mother, sisters, and even got his own mother’s opinion about an engagement ring for you. He finally found the perfect ring to propose with.

Tom made dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant tonight. He planned to spoil you the entire day, making sure that you knew that you were his queen.

Tom rises early. He lifts the blankets off of himself and steps out of bed. He tucks you back under the cover gently, not making a sound. He tiptoes to the kitchen to make you a cup of your favorite tea. He fills the kettle with water and then places it on the stove. He turns to the refrigerator to take out some of your favorite fresh fruits as a part of breakfast. He prepares toast as well and then he sets it all up on a tray to bring to your shared bedroom. He walks to the room and finds you still sleeping peacefully. He places the tray on the bedside table beside you and then leans to kiss your forehead. You were a light sleeper so the action woke you up almost instantly. Your eyes open and you see your boyfriend preparing something besides the bed.

“Morning,” you whisper. You toss and turn until you eventually sit up. “What are you up to?”

“Happy anniversary, my love,” Tom says and sits on the foot of the bed. “I made you breakfast.”

“Thank you, love. Happy anniversary.” Tom hands you your mug of tea and you take a sip. This was exactly what you need to start your day, which a warm cuppa. “This is probably the best cuppa I’ve ever had.”

Tom giggles at your compliment and he blushes. You just have that charming effect on him. “Well you are my best girl, aren’t you?”

You smile at your lovely boyfriend. “I guess I am.”

You and Tom eat the rest of your breakfast in bed together. Tom insists on feeding you to be romantic and you hesitantly accept. After, you put on a sundress that Tom purchased for you for today; a pink flowy sundress with strawberries on it. You match it with a pair of cream color wedges.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Tom compliments when he sees you walk out of the bedroom into the living room where he was sitting on the sofa waiting for you. He’s wearing navy slacks with a light blue short-sleeve button-down shirt. His hair is gelled back, which you hated because you couldn’t run your fingers in his beautiful chestnut-colored locks. “Absolutely stunning.”

“You look gorgeous too.” You walk towards your boyfriend and take a seat beside him on the sofa. You take his hand in yours and you can feel how sweaty his hand was, but you decide not to comment on it. To be honest, you didn’t think much of it anyway. “What are our plans for the day? I have something for you, but I want to give it to you later.”

You wrote Tom a song in an attempt to propose to him, and you were hopeful that he’d say yes. Although you did like tradition, you want to pop the question to your boyfriend, and what better way to do it than what you know best; music.

“Oh, you do? What is it, love?” Tom was not a fan of surprises and for almost every occasion he would try to pry his present out of you.

“You know that I’m not going to tell you,” you reply.

“It was worth a try. I was thinking that we can try strawberry picking,” Tom says and then kisses your cheek. “How does that sound, darling?”

“Sounds wonderful, Tommy,” you mumble. You kiss him and then get up from the sofa. You hold your hand out for him and say, “Let’s go, baby.”

“Let’s do it.”

The drive to the strawberry field was full of giggles, music, and love. You get to the field and Tom opens the car door for you, as per usual. He grabs the basket from the backseat and he guides you to the field. Tom takes photos of you dancing through the field and picking strawberries. He didn’t want to forget this moment, he couldn’t forget how beautiful and ethereal you look in this moment.

You get back home and wash the strawberries that you picked. You cut some up for you and Tom to eat. You gather by the sofa once again while Tom turns on your favorite film. You pull out your phone to text your best friend, Natalie, to set up the backyard for the proposal. Natalie and Harrison knew about your plan to propose to Tom and set up a stage for your small performance.

Tom cuddles beside you after he presses play on the television. “Who were you texting?”

“Just Natalie,” you answer vaguely. You didn’t want Tom to catch on or possibly find out about your plan. “Just chatting.”

“Ok,” Tom says, not buying it completely but he didn’t push. “After the movie, we’ll go to dinner, yeah?”

“Gotta show you something first, baby.”

“Tell me what it is,” Tom groans. He nuzzles his face into your neck and kisses it. “Please spill.”

“That’s not going to work with me, Holland. Now, let’s watch the film, silly.”

“Fine,” he says.

The film passes by fairly quickly. You clean up the living room with Tom, and then you tell him to wait in your bedroom until you text him to come outside. “Why must I wait in our bedroom, darling?”

“I just want to make sure that everything is perfect first,” you reply as if it were obvious. “Please don’t peak.”

“I promise that I won’t, angel,” Tom says and then kisses you. You cup his cheek and pull him closer. Your lips linger on his for a moment before you pull away. “What was that for?”

“I just love you, alright?” You choke up a bit. Thinking about what you were about to do made you emotional. You have never been in love with someone like you were with Tom. “You mean the world to me, Tommy.”

“I love you too, darling. You’re my entire world.” Tom always knew what to say and he gives you the reassurance you need. You pull away from him and walk towards the yard.

You finish setting up everything for the proposal and set up the projector for the slideshow. As the song plays, you planned on showing a slideshow of photos of you and Tom. You send a quick text to Tom telling him to come to the backyard. You hear him come outside and soon enough, he is standing in front of you.

He notices your display. He notices the decorated deck mimicking a stage with flowers surrounding it, white roses to be exact. He notices your microphone and speaker. “What’s all this, love?”

“I wrote a song for you,” you began, but you pause to rub your hands against your dress. Nerves were building up. “For our anniversary. It explains how I’m feeling.”

You see Tom smile at your explanation. “Let’s hear it then, baby. Whenever you’re ready.”

You prerecorded the acoustics and harmonies, so you would simply just turn on the speaker to play the music. “The song is called Paper Rings. I hope you like it.”

You turn on the speaker a pop upbeat sound fills the air and you immediately feel at ease.

The moon is high Like your friends were the night that we first met Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

As you were singing, you think about the memories that you and Tom share. You remember meeting him at an outdoor pub. You were first introduced to Harrison, Tom’s best mate. They were stoned, to say the least, but it was still probably one of the best nights of your life.

The wine is cold Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street Cat and mouse for a month or two or three Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night (Oh!) Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life (One, two, one two three four!)

Tom looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world, yet he doesn’t know what your next lyrics would be. He didn’t know that you want to marry him as much as he did.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

He begins to pick up on what you’re telling him, and it warms his heart. His eyes begin to water as he watches perform for him. You look very gorgeous too.

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool When you jumped in first, I went in too I'm with you even if it makes me blue Which takes me back To the color that we painted your brother's wall Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws We wouldn't be standing here so tall, so

Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night (Oh!) Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause you waited your whole life (One, two, one two three four!)

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

You wrap your arms around yourself for emphasis and Tom giggles gently. He is crying at this point and you feel yourself tearing up too.

I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy Uh huh

You sing the chorus once more, and you begin dancing along with the music and Tom couldn’t help but smile at you.

You're the one I want, one I want

You finish off the song and you do a little bow as Tom claps for you. You walk towards him and he wraps his arms around you. “I loved that, baby,” he whispers in your ear.

You look at him and notice the tears streaming down his face. You wipe them away and say, “So?”

“So?” He repeats, not fully understanding where you’re getting at it.

“Will you marry me, baby?” You ask.

Tom smiles and instead of answering, Tom reaches for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a velvet ring box and gets down on one knee. Tom opens the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes it does,” you giggle. “I guess that we both had the same idea.”

“It’s not a paper ring, though,” Tom says, referring to your song.

“Well, I do like shiny things,” you joke. “I’d be honored to marry you, Tom.”

Tom slips the ring on your finger and stands up to kiss you. This moment couldn’t be more perfect.

“Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lover.”

~

Tagging: @canwekissforever-hazzy @storybookholland​ @petesrparker​

[mandoalorian]

No Body, No Crime [Dave York x F!Reader]

Summary: When Dave York’s wife expresses her suspicion of him having an affair, you agree to help her gather the evidence to confront him. You believe that if you can prove his infidelity, their marriage will fall apart and you might actually stand a chance with him. But when you follow him out one night, you make a shocking discovery.

Warnings: SMUT, m receiving oral, f masturbation, choking, infidelity, murder

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3000>

Author’s Note: Please consider this my official application of entry to the Dave York pit. This one is quite intense. I’ve never written a thriller type fic before, so I hope it’s okay! 

Masterlist

He had to have been cheating. There was no other excuse for sneaking out so late at night, and not returning until the early hours of the morning. His actions radiated infidelity. The only answer was that he was having an affair.

Dave York was the typical suburban dad living the perfect life with the perfect wife and two happy daughters. You would know as you were the York’s housemaid, and had the privilege of living with them. As an insider, it also meant you were a pair of extra spying eyes. And you watched Dave, a lot. It was only a matter of time before Carol caught on and realised something was up. So when she came to you one morning after Dave had set off to work, and the girls were at school, you could already sense her concerns.

If you recalled correctly, it was the fourth time this week he’d snuck out. You remembered last night, sitting by the attic window and watching him drive off into the distance. There was something about it that got you all riled up. You were ashamed to admit it -- but you were more than attracted to Mr. York. Once he was no longer in sight, you closed your eyes and slipped your fingers under the hem of your panties. You let out a puff of air as your digits found your clit and you began to rub tight little circles, squirming around in the wooden chair that you’d been sitting in. It creaked in the midst of the night, but getting so caught up in the moment, you didn’t even care if your movements or whimpers woke Carol up. You imagined Dave burying his cock deep inside you, moaning out your name. It was really bad, you knew that… but the truth is, if Dave wanted to fuck you next, you’d have no qualms. You’d let him. You’d beg him. With your free hand, you clutched the edge of the window sill so hard your knuckles turned white as you felt your body pull to its orgasm.

You stayed by the window for around two and a half hours after that, apprehending his return. If one thing was sure, it was that Dave made an effort to remain unseen. He dressed in all black, even opting to wear a hat to hide his brown locks of hair. You heard the keys jingle as he let himself into the house, this time via the back door because he knew it would be quieter. You heard his footsteps emerge up the stairs. Strangely enough, you heard the washer switch on as he would do his own laundry. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you had cleaned Dave’s clothes. Washing his clothes at four in the morning only made him even more suspicious, but you had to applaud his efforts.

“I think Dave is cheating on me,” Carol announced as you finished up doing the dishes. You felt your body stiffen at her tone, before taking a deep breath and turning to face her. She looked exhausted, nursing a cup of coffee and her bleached blonde hair tied into a messy bun. “He’s been… acting different,” she revealed sadly. “He slips out of bed at around one in the morning, every night. He comes back at four-ish, and I pretend to be asleep. But he undresses, and he smells like sweat. We don’t talk much anymore. I don’t think he loves me.” she confirmed, and you could tell she was trying to hold back unshed tears.

“I’m sorry.” was all you could offer her.

She sank down into the dining room chair and held her head in her hands. Carol wasn’t a bad woman -- but you couldn’t bring yourself to empathise with her. She was the lucky one who got to marry Dave in the first place… who got to bring up his two wonderful kids. She got to live in the big suburban house, and she got to drive the expensive family SUV. Clearly, she was struggling. Her suspicions of her husband cheating were eating her alive, and you knew from your own spying that he was certainly up to something. It must have sucked for her, but even if Dave was being unfaithful, she was still living your dream life.

“I think I’m going to call him out,” she confessed with an uneasy shrug of her shoulders. “I have to. I can’t keep living like this. It’s just… I have no evidence. No way to prove it.”

Carol had a point. If she was going to confront him, surely he’d just deny it and get mad. You liked Dave a lot, that much was clear, but maybe… in this scenario… you could be some use to Carol. If you could provide her with the evidence that he was cheating, then their marriage would inevitably fall apart. Then you could harness the chance to steal Dave away for yourself. This could actually work.

“I can help you,” you said suddenly, pulling out the chair opposite Carol and sitting beside her. “I can help you find what you need to expose Dave’s affair.”

Carol furrowed her eyebrows together in bewilderment, and you hoped you hadn’t sounded too excited about the prospect. “How do you plan on doing that?” she asked you with uncertainty.

You hummed, your mind weighing up the possible scenarios. “Uhm… well, next time he sneaks out I can watch him leave... and then I take your SUV and carefully follow him. I’ll try to snap some photos of him getting caught in the act.” you suggested and watched Carol wince at the thought of you seeing him with somebody else. Seriously… were you supposed to feel bad for her? Carol looked unsure but finally she sighed a breath of defeat and nodded her head, agreeing to your plan.

“Okay… but be careful you don’t get caught.” She warned.

“I’ll do it tonight,” you promised. “Don’t worry Carol, let me handle this.”

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This time, when the night rolled over, you weren’t in the attic like usual. You were hiding out by the living room window downstairs which gave you quick and easy access to the front door. Once you were satisfied that Dave had driven an ample distance away from the house, you grabbed Carol’s car keys and jogged down the patio to her SUV. You knew the roads would be empty at this time of night, so it shouldn’t be too hard to lose sight of Dave. What would be hard though, is trying to remain unseen by him. Any car out on the roads at two in the morning would be suspicious. You figured you were doing a good job at staying back in the shadows.

To your surprise, Dave began to drive out of town and he headed towards the forest that peppered the outskirts of the little village he lived in. You knew that nobody lived in this area, and so why he was driving this far out was beyond you. Though, it only piqued your curiosity more, and so you continued to follow him.

You parked around ten feet behind him, the car tyres getting stuck in the dirt. You watched as Dave hopped out of his car and swung a black duffel bag over his shoulder. He ventured into the depths of the forest, amongst the tall trees, until eventually he was nowhere in sight. You sat in the driver's seat for a few moments, contemplating what exactly was going on. You didn't expect this at all. You figured that, all this time, he had in fact been driving to a different part of town, letting himself into someone else’s house and having an affair.

Then, the reality that he could still be having an affair struck you. You hopped out of the SUV and turned on your phone’s flashlight, helping you familiarise yourself with your surroundings. Dave’s clunky boots left a trail of footsteps in the mud, thankfully, which meant it was easy enough to track him down. You were making good progress and doing fine until you heard a man scream. And your heart sank in your chest.

The same voice cried out in terror, before another scream followed. Could it be Dave? Was he in danger? Your mind shot to what you believed to be the worst possible case and your light jogging turned into running as you followed the sound. You had to make sure Dave was okay.

As you got closer and closer, you began to hear a squelching noise and a series of grunts and groans. You noticed a figure, on his knees by a large tree trunk -- and evidently, he noticed the way your flashlight had highlighted his body. The masculine figure rose to his feet and dropped the knife to the ground before turning to face you.

It was Dave.

“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, removing his hat and stuffing it into his pocket.

“You… I--... you…” you were speechless, your gaze flicking between Dave and the corpse that he had tied to the tree. The screams you had heard earlier hadn’t come from Dave, but instead had come from the man he just murdered.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He repeated, malice dripping from his tongue. When you didn’t answer, he scoffed incredulously and pulled out a clean knife. He took only a few steps towards you, breaking any distance, and held the silver blade to your neck. The coolness of the metal stung your skin and your gaze fixated on his cold dark eyes in horror. “I’ll ask you one last time,” Dave whispered, his warm breath fanning over your jaw. “Sweet girl, tell me, why are you here?”

“Carol sent me…” you lied. “I didn’t want to. But-- but she thought you were cheating on her. She told me to follow you into the night and see where you ended up.”

“That bitch,” Dave huffed, taking a step back and shaking his head in disbelief. “And you were happy to betray me?”

“No!” you said defensively, your voice raising an octave. “She said if I didn’t, she’d fire me.”

“You should have come to me first.” Dave gritted out, his voice deep and his eyes locked on yours. God, he was hot. If he hadn’t just murdered someone, you’d be all over him.

“I know,” you gulped and made an effort to flutter your eyelashes apologetically. “I was scared.”

“Scared of me?” Dave quizzed, tilting his head and wrapping a gloved hand around the column of your throat. He gave it an experimental squeeze.

“N-no,” you stammered out, biting your lower lip. “Scared of Carol.”

“And now that you know where I’ve been going every night. Now that you know that I’ve been murdering innocents… are you scared of me?” Dave rephrased after a moment of silence.

“No,” you confirmed again but with a shaky exhale. You raised your hand and cupped his cheek. The touch caught him off guard. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection from anyone. “Actually… it turns me on.”

Dave pulled away from you and a wicked smirk crossed his lips. “I never pinned you to be that kind of person.” he revealed, but if the tent in his pants was anything to go off, you knew that he liked it.

“I never pinned you to be a murderer.” you shot back with a sweet moan, licking a hot stripe along his jaw and maneuvering your hand along his broad chest.

Dave let his own gloved hand tangle in your hair before yanking your head back and forcing you to look at him. 

“Not a murderer, just a cheater?” he questioned, venom in his tone. 

“Mm, I’m sorry.” you whispered, and Dave began to push you down onto your knees. 

“Show me,” he hissed, and you hungrily nodded your head.

In the darkness of the night, you began to undo his belt. Pulling it through the loops of his pants, you discarded it to the ground and then started to work at the zipper. You dipped your hand into his pants and pulled out his already hard cock. You couldn’t help but gasp at how heavy it felt in your hands.

You began to pump at his length, your fingers gathering the beads of precum that had dribbled out of his tip. “Let me fuck your mouth.” he commanded. You opened your mouth as wide as you could, preparing yourself for his girth, and stuck out your tongue. Dave chuckled darkly before thrusting his thick cock into your mouth.

His breathing hilted when you wrapped your lips and moaned around him, the noise sending vibrations through his body.

He pushed his entire length into you and then gently began to trace your throat with his index finger. The movements of his hands were achingly soft in comparison to the rough and messy nature of his thrusts. It didn’t take long for you to realise he was actually tracing the bulge that his thick cock had made there, and you gagged around him in response. He doubled back, pulling out of you and only giving you a second to catch your breath before fucking your mouth again. 

His speech was slurred and his vision became hazy as he muttered words of degradation. “You little whore, sucking my cock in the middle of a fucking forest at night. Do you like this? Do you like taking my cock in your mouth?”

You could only hum in approval. You felt tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes and his cock began to throb in your mouth. You knew he was close now. You brought your hands to his balls and began to massage them, and looked up through your lashes at Dave who had tossed his head back, the pleasure consuming him. 

Without any warning, Dave came undone, his salty load shooting into your mouth. He brought his hands back down to your head and forced you to swallow him whole. It wasn’t easy, but you managed to do so, relishing his taste. Eventually, he let you pull off him, a mixture of his cum and your saliva creating a trail between his cock and your lips. He grabbed your hand and helped you to your feet before tucking himself back into his pants and zipping himself up.

“Well, I can’t murder you now.” he sighed, rubbing his jaw.

“Do you need me to help you hide the body?” you offered.

“No,” he replied. “I do all my murders in this forest because no one has visited in years. They decompose quickly too. I just leave them to rot.”

It sounded pretty risky, you thought, but evidently, Dave knew what he was doing. He must have been doing this for a long time. “Oh okay…” you mumbled. “I’ll just… head back to the car then.”

You spun around on your heel and took a few steps in the direction you came before you heard Dave call your name. You froze and waited for him to speak.

“I’m going to kill Carol,” he said, the five words echoing amongst the trees around you. “And I need you to be my alibi.”

“M-murder Carol? But why?” you asked, honestly feeling a little uneasy at this point. You trusted Dave, you really did. But Carol had sent you out to try and evidence the fact he was cheating on you. In the past half hour, you’d witnessed her husband murder someone, and then you had proceeded to give him what could quite possibly have been the best blow of his life.

“She thought I was cheating on her,” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost sinister. “She has betrayed my trust.”

You wanted to throw in the fact that he had actually just cheated on her, with you, but you decided that might not have been the best idea. He needed to know that you were on his side. You hadn’t realised the length of time you’d stayed silent for. Clearly, had been too long for Dave’s liking.

“Are you going to betray my trust?” Dave queried and you shook your head ‘no’ profusely. “Good.” 

“Good thing I’ve cleaned enough houses in my time to know how to cover up a scene,” you said softly, taking a few steps closer to him. “And it’s a good thing I helped Carol take out a big life insurance policy.” your lips curled into a smile.

“So we do it tonight,” Dave whispered, his thumb grazing the height of your cheekbone. “We go home together, and I’ll kill her. I’ll take her body to the forest and you clean up before daylight.”

“What about the girls?” you couldn’t help but ask.

Dave picked up his belt and the bloodied knife before throwing them haphazardly in his duffle bag. “Good thing they’ll still be living with another, amazing woman that they can look up to once their mother is gone,” he smirked, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat at his words. “I’ll call the cops tomorrow morning and file a missing person’s report for Carol.”

“Will it work?” you wondered out loud.

“Do you trust me?”

Maybe you were foolish, but as you contemplated his words, you realised that you really did trust this suburban murder dad.

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